3   182?  01191    59 


iiiiii 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  tf 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


> 


THE   CELLAR  BOCK  SHCP 


1SO0O     WYOMINO 
DETROIT,    MICH.  48221 
U.S.A. 


P«  6003  »4   S»  191* 


3   1822  01191    5915 


i  a 


The  Substance  of  a  Dream 


By  F.  W.  BAIN 

Translated  from  the   Original   Manuscripts 


A  Digit  of  the  Moon 
And  Other  Love  Stories  from  the  Hindu 


A    Draught    of   the   Blue 

Together  with 

An  Essence  of  the  Dusk 

An  Incarnation  of  the  Snow 

The  Ashes  of  a  God 

Together  with 

A  Mine  of  Fau'ts 
The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

Together  with 

Bubbles  oi  the  Foam 

A  Syrup  of  the  Bees 

The  Livery  of  Eve 


The 
Substance  of  a  Dream 


Translated  from  the  Original  Manuscript 

by 

F.  W.  Bain 


Mix,  with  sunset's  fleeting  glow, 
Kiss  of  friend,  and  stab  of  foe, 
Ooze  of  Moon,  and  foam  of  brine, 
Noose  of  Thug,  and  creeper's  twine, 
Hottest  flame,  and  coldest  ash, 
Priceless  gems,  and  poorest  trash: 
Throw  away  the  solid  part, 
And  behold  —  a  woman's  heart! 


NlDR ADARPANA 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 
New  York  and  London 
Cbc    "fcnichcrlvchcr    preM 


Copyright,  1919 

BY 

F.  W.  BAIN 


SVS 


Made  in  the  United  States  of  America 


DeMcateD 

TO 

The  Inexpressibly  Gentle  Genius 

of 

MY   OWN    MOTHER 


INTRODUCTION 


I  could  almost  persuade  myself,  that  others 
will  like  this  little  fable  as  much  as  I  do:  so 
curiously  simple,  and  yet  so  strangely  profound 
is  its  delicate  epitome  of  the  old,  old  story,  the 
course  of  true  love,  which  never  did  run  smooth. 
And  since  so  many  people  have  asked  me 
questions  as  to  the  origin  of  these  stories,  I 
will  say  a  word  on  the  point  here.  Where  do 
they  come  from?  I  do  not  know.  I  dis- 
covered only  the  other  day  that  some  believe 
them  to  have  been  written  by  a  woman. 
That  appears  to  me  to  be  improbable.  But 
who  writes  them?  I  cannot  tell.  They  come 
to  me,  one  by  one,  suddenly,  like  a  flash  of 
lightning,  all  together:  I  see  them  in  the  air 
before  me,  like  a  little  Bayenx  tapestry,  com- 
plete, from  end  to  end,  and  write  them  down, 
hardly  lifting  the  pen  from  the  paper,  straight 
"from  tin-  MS."      I   never  know,  the  day 


VII 


viii  Introduction 

before,  when  one  is  coming:  it  arrives,  as  if 
shot  out  of  a  pistol.  Who  can  tell?  They 
may  be  all  but  so  many  reminiscences  of  a 
former  birth. 

The  Substance  of  a  Dream  is  half  a  love- 
story,  and  half  a  fairy  tale:  as  indeed  every 
love-story  is  a  fairy  tale.  Because  although 
that  unaccountable  mystery,  the  mutual  at- 
traction of  the  sexes,  is  the  very  essence  of  life, 
and  everything  else  merely  accidental  or  ac- 
cessory, yet  only  too  often  in  the  jostle  of 
the  world,  in  the  trough  and  tossing  of  the 
waves  of  time,  the  accidental  smothers  the 
essential,  and  life  turns  into  a  commonplace 
instead  of  a  romance.  And  so,  like  every 
other  story,  this  little  story  will  perhaps  be 
very  differently  judged,  according  to  the 
reader's  sex.  The  bearded  critic  will  see  it 
with  eyes  very  different  from  those  with  which 
it  may  be  viewed  by  the  fair  voter  with  no 
beard  upon  her  chin ;  for  women,  as  the  great 
god  says  at  the  end,  have  scant  mercy  on  their 
own  sex,  and  the  heroine  of  the  story  is  a 
strange  heroine,  an  enigmatical  Mona  Lisa, 
so  to  say,  who  will  not  appeal  to  everybody  so 
strongly  as  she  does  to  the  Moony-crested 


Introduction  a 

Deity,  when  he  sums  her  up  at  the  close.  I 
venture,  with  humility,  to  concur  in  the 
opinion  of  the  Deity,  for  she  holds  me  under 
the  same  spell  as  her  innumerable  other  lovers. 
The  reader,  a  more  formidable  authority  even 
than  the  god,  must  decide:  only  I  must  warn 
him  that  to  understand,  he  must  go  to  the 
very  end.  He  will  not  think  his  time  wasted, 
if  he  take  half  the  delight  in  reading,  as  I  did, 
in  transcribing,  the  evidence  in  the  case. 
Only,  moreover,  when  he  closes  the  book  will 
he  appreciate  the  mingled  exactitude  and 
beauty  of  its  name:  for  no  story  ever  had  a 
name  which  fitted  it  with  such  curious  pre- 
cision as  this  one.  For  the  essence  of  a  dream 
is  always  that  along  with  its  weird  beauty,  it 
counters  expectation,  often  in  such  queer, 
ludicrous,  kaleidoscopic  ways.     So  it  is  here. 

Many  bitter  things,  since  the  beginning, 
have  men  said  of  women,  though  neither  so 
many  nor  so  bitter,  as  the  witty  Frenchman 
cynically  remarks,  as  the  things  women  have 
said  ot  one  another.  Poor  Eve  has  paid  very 
d.ar  for  that  apple:  the  only  wonder  is,  that 
she    was    n<  >\    made    responsible    also    for    the 


x  Introduction 

Flood :  but  we  have  not  got  the  whole  of  that 
story:  Noah's  wife  may  have  dropped  some 
incriminating  documents  into  the  water,  for 
the  Higher  Criticism  to  unearth  by  and  by: 
the  Eternal  Feminine  may  have  had  a  hand 
in  it  after  all,  as  she  is  generally  to  be  found 
somewhere  behind  the  scenes,  wherever  mis- 
chief brews  for  mortal  man.  She  comes  down 
the  ages,  loaded  with  accusations;  and  yet, 
somehow  or  other,  they  do  not  seem  to  have 
done  her  much  harm.  And  the  reason  is, 
that  she  possesses,  in  supreme  perfection,  the 
art  of  disarming  her  antagonist,  having  been 
very  cunningly  constructed  by  the  Creator 
for  that  very  purpose ;  she  is  like  a  cork ;  she 
will  not  drown,  under  any  flood  of  charges: 
she  floats,  quand  meme:  (two  words  that  she 
might  very  well  take,  like  the  inimitable 
Sarah,  for  her  motto:)  so  that,  be  as  angry  as 
you  please  with  her,  you  generally  find  your- 
self not  only  unable  to  condemn  her,  but  even 
ready  to  beg  her  pardon,  and  rather  glad,  on 
the  whole,  to  get  it.  It  is  a  hopeless  case. 
And  all  the  more,  because  no  woman  ever 
lived,  bad  or  good,  who  could  be  got  to  under- 
stand what  is  meant  by  "playing  cricket": 


Introduction  xi 

you  cannot  make  her  keep  the  rules  in  any 
game:  she  plays  to  win,  like  a  German,  and 
invariably  cheats,  if  she  can:  international 
law  counts,  only  as  long  as  it  is  for  and  not 
against  her:  if  you  find  her  out,  and  scold  her, 
she  pouts,  and  will  not  play.  And  then,  if,  as 
is  commonly  the  situation,  you  want  her  to 
play,  very  badly,  what  are  you  to  do?  Yes,  it 
is  a  hopeless  case. 

And  yet,  if  we  look  into  the  matter  with 
that  stern  impartiality  which  its  public  im- 
portance demands,  we  may  perceive,  that 
though  there  is,  it  must  be  candidly  owned, 
an  element  of  truth  in  the  charges  brought 
against  her,  they  are  founded,  for  all  that, 
largely  on  misunderstanding.  It  is  man  him- 
self, her  accuser,  who  is  very  nearly  always  to 
blame.  His  intelligence  as  compared  with 
her  own,  is  clumsy:  (it  is  the  difference  be- 
tween the  dog  and  the  cat:)  he  does  not 
realise  the  unfathomable  gulf  that  divides  her 
nature  from  his  own,  and  for  lack  of  imagina- 
tive tact,  judging  her  by  himself,  he  enor- 
mously overestimates  the  part  played  by 
reason  in  her  behaviour.     Hence  when,  as  she 


xii  Introduction 

is  always  doing,  she  lets  him  down,  he  breaks 
out  (obtusely),  into  denunciation  and  reproach, 
taking  it  for  granted,  that  what  she  did,  she 
did,  deliberately.  But  that  is  his  mistake. 
Women  never  act  by  deliberation,  least  of 
all  in  their  relations  with  men.  Reason  has 
hardly  anything  to  do  with  it.  A  woman  is  a 
weapon,  designed  by  the  Creator,  who  generally 
knows  what  he  is  doing,  to  fascinate  the  other 
sex:  that  is  her  essence  and  her  raison  d'etre: 
the  woman  who  does  not  do  it  is  a  failure,  and 
she  is  Nature's  triumph  and  entelechy,  who 
does  it  best.  And  this  every  woman  knows, 
by  instinct,  and  feels,  long  before  she  knows  it, 
almost  as  soon  as  she  can  stand  upon  her  feet : 
consequently,  no  artificially  elaborated  com- 
pliment, no  calculated  flattery,  ever  touches 
her  so  near,  as  it  does,  when  she  perceives 
that  her  personality  tells,  acts  like  a  charm,  on 
any  given  man :  a  point  about  which  no  woman 
ever  blunders,  as  a  man  often  so  ridiculously 
does  about  himself:  she  invariably  detects, 
by  unerring  instinct,  when  her  arrow  hits 
its  mark.  And  this  involuntary  homage  she 
finds  so  irresistibly  delectable,  going  as  it  does 
down  to  the  very  depths  of  her  being,  and 


Introduction  xiii 

endorsing  it,  that  she  literally  cannot  deny 
herself  the  pleasure  of  basking  in  it,  making 
hay,  so  to  say,  while  her  sun  shines,  revelling 
in  the  consciousness  of  her  power  all  the  more 
delicious  because  she  knows  only  too  well 
that  she  must  lose  it  later  on,  as  youth  flies: 
old  age,  i.  c,  the  loss  of  her  charm,  being  every 
woman's  ogre,  the  skeleton  in  her  cupboard, 
which  she  dreads  far  more  than  death,  just  as 
the  only  disease  which  she  shudders  to  face 
is  the  smallpox,  for  a  similar  reason.  And  so, 
when  she  finds  her  spell  working,  she  lets  her- 
self go:  never  dreaming  what  interpretation 
her  victim  puts  on  her  behaviour:  and  then, 
all  at  once,  she  awakes  to  discover  with  what 
fire  she  was  ignorantly  playing.  And  then 
it  is,  that  she  recoils,  on  the  verge:  and  then 
it  is,  that  thwarted  in  the  very  moment  that 
he  deemed  triumph  secured,  the  baffled  lover 
falls  into  fury  and  abuse,  because  he  imagines 
her  to  have  been  all  along  clearly  aware  of 
what  she  was  about,  which  is  exactly  what 
hardly  one  woman  in  a  million  is.  Not 
being  a  man,  she  does  not  understand:  her 
end  i  i  only  his  beginning:  his  object  is  posses- 
sion, still  to  come:  hers  is  already  gained  in 


xiv  Introduction 

the  form  of  the  tribute  to  her  charm :  she  was 
only  playing  (every  woman  is  a  child) ,  he  was 
in  deadly  earnest,  and  took  her  purely  instinc- 
tive self-congratulation  for  a  promise  deliber- 
ately made.  Suddenly  illuminated,  she  lets 
him  down  abruptly  with  a  bump,  all  the 
harder  that  she  never  meant  to  do  it  (the 
coquette  does :  but  she  is  a  horrible  professional, 
methodising  feminine  instinct,  for  prey:  a 
psychological  ghoul,  feeding  on  souls  instead 
of  bodies,  and  deserving  extermination  without 
benefit  of  clergy).  The  real  crime  of  woman 
is  not  so  much  a  crime  as  a  defect :  she  is  weak, 
as  all  the  sages  know,  and  all  languages  prove, 
though  "democracy"  ignores  it;  it  is  her 
strength,  and  half  her  charm,  that  she  cannot 
stand  alone,  like  a  creeper.  But  that  is  why 
you  cannot  depend  on  her,  good  or  bad.  Ir- 
resolution is  her  essence ;  she  will  "determine " 
one  way,  and  act  in  another,  according  to  the 
pressure.  Instinct,  inclination,  or  aversion, 
vanity,  emotion,  pity,  or  fear,  or  even  mere 
chance:  these  are  her  motives,  the  forces  that 
move  her:  reason  counts  with  her  for  abso- 
lutely nothing,  a  thing  like  arithmetic,  useful, 
even  indispensable,  but  only  for  adding  up 


Introduction  xv 

a  grocer's  bill,  or  catching  a  train.  It  has 
literally  nothing  to  do  with  her  heart.  There 
is  no  folly  like  the  folly  of  supposing  that  it  has : 
yet  on  this  folly  rests  most  of  the  accusations 
against  her.  Reduce  her  to  a  rational  being, 
and  you  degrade  her  to  the  level  of  an  inferior 
man.  But  she  is  not  his  inferior:  she  is  his 
dream,  his  magnet,  his  force,  his  inspiration, 
and  his  fate.  Take  her  away,  and  you  annihi- 
late him:  Othello's  occupation's  gone.  Nine- 
tenths  of  the  great  things  done  in  the  world 
have  been  done  for  a  woman.  Why  ?  Exactly 
because  she  would  burn  down  a  street  to  boil 
her  baby's  milk.  No  rational  being  would  do 
that:  but  we  all  owe  our  lives  to  it. 

And  hence,  misogyny  is  only  a  pique.  To 
fall  foul  of  the  sea,  like  Xerxes,  when  it  wrecks 
your  ambitions,  is  to  behave  as  he  did,  like  a 
spoiled  child,  without  the  child's  excuse.  "If 
you  burn  your  fingers,  is  the  flame  to  blame? " 
You  should  have  known  better.  When  Aris- 
totle was  reproved,  by  some  early  political 
economist,  for  giving  alms  to  a  beggar,  he 
replied:  I  gave  not  to  the  man,  but  humanity. 
Admirable  retort!  which  is  exactly  in  point 
here.     When  she  requited  your  homage  with 


xvi  Introduction 

such  encouraging  smiles,  it  was  not  you,  but 
the  man  in  you,  that  appealed  to  her.  And 
because  you  are  a  man,  are  you  necessarily 
the  man?  Not  at  all.  And  argument  is  mere 
waste  of  time :  reason  is  not  the  court  of  appeal. 
//  of  herself  she  will  not  love,  nothing  can  make 
her.  Yet  why  draw  the  poet's  ungallant 
conclusion?  Why  should  the  devil  take  her? 
Because  she  was  weak  (were  you  not  weak?) 
is  she  therefore  to  be  damned  beyond  redemp- 
tion? Because  flattery  was  sweet,  must  she 
give  herself  away  to  every  male  animal  that 
confesses  the  spell?  Surely  that  is  not  only 
harsh,  but  preposterous,  even  outrageous. 
Are  you  sure  that  your  merit  is  worthy  of  such 
generosity? 

And  yet,  here  is  the  human  catastrophe. 
Why  did  the  Creator  scatter  his  sexual  attrac- 
tion so  anomalously  that  it  is  so  rarely  recip- 
rocated, each  lover  pursuing  so  often  another 
who  flies  him  for  a  third,  as  in  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream,  an  imbroglio  oddly  enough 
found  in  a  little  poem  identical  in  the  Greek 
Moschus  and  the  Hindoo  Bhartrihari?  Was 
it  blunder  or  design?  Why  could  he  not  have 
made  action  and  reaction  equal  and  opposite, 


Introduction  xvii 

as  they  are  in  mechanics?  For  if  affection 
could  not  operate  at  all,  unless  it  was  mutual, 
there  would  be  no  unhappy,  because  ill- 
assorted,  marriages.  What  a  difference  it 
would  have  made!  Had  mutual  gravitation 
been  the  law  of  the  sexes,  as  it  is  of  the  spheres, 
this  Earth  would  never  have  stood  in  need  of 
a  Heaven,  since  it  would  have  existed  already: 
for  the  only  earthly  heaven  is  a  happy  mar- 
riage. As  it  is,  even  when  it  is  not  a  Hell,  a 
marriage  is  only  too  often  but  an  everlasting 
sigh. 

And  not  marriage  only,  but  life.  For  here 
lies  the  solution  of  a  mystery  that  has  baffled 
the  sages,  who  have  failed  to  discover  it 
chiefly  because  they  have  blinded  themselves 
by  their  own  theological  and  philosophical 
delusions,  idealism  and  monotheism.  Why 
is  it,  that  gazing  at  Nature's  inexhaustible 
beauty,  thrown  at  us  with  such  lavish  profu- 
sion in  her  dawns  and  her  sunsets,  her  shadows 
and  her  moods,  in  the  roar  of  her  breakers  and 
the  silence  of  her  snows,  the  gloom  of  her 
thunder  and  the  spirit  of  her  hills,  the  blue  of 
her  distance  and  the  tints  of  her  autumns,  the 


xviii  Introduction 

glory  of  her  blossom  and  the  dignity  of  her 
decay,  her  heights  and  her  abysses,  her  fury 
and  her  peace — why  is  it,  that  as  we  gaze  in- 
satiably at  these  never  ending  miracles,  we 
are  haunted  by  so  unaccountable  a  sadness, 
which  is  not  in  the  things  themselves,  for 
Nature  never  mourns,  but  in  some  element 
that  we  ourselves  import?  For  if  the  Soul  be 
only  Nature's  mirror,  her  looking-glass,  whence 
the  melancholy?  Is  it  because  beneath  our 
surface  consciousness,  far  away  down  below, 
in  the  dark  organic  depths  that  underlie  it, 
we  feel  without  clearly  understanding  that,  as 
the  Hindoos  put  it,  we  have  missed  the  fruit 
of  our  existence,  owing  to  our  never  having 
found  our  other  half.  For  every  one  of  us,  so 
far  from  being  a  self-sufficient  whole,  an  inde- 
pendent unity,  is  incomplete,  requiring  for 
its  metaphysical  satisfaction,  its  complement, 
apart  from  which  it  never  can  attain  that 
peace  which  passeth  all  understanding,  for 
which  it  longs  obscurely,  and  must  ever  be 
uneasy,  till  it  finds  it.  For  just  as  no  mis- 
fortunes whatever  can  avail  to  mar  the  bliss 
of  the  man  who  has  beside  him  the  absolute 
sympathy  of  his  feminine  ideal,  so  on  the  other 


Introduction  xix 

hand  no  worldly  success  of  any  kind  can  com- 
pensate for  its  absence.  All  particular  causes 
of  happiness  or  misery  are  swallowed  up  and 
sink  into  insignificance  and  nullity  compared 
with  this:  this  present,  they  disappear:  this 
absent,  each  alone  is  sufficient  to  wreck  the 
soul,  fluttering  about  without  rudder  or  ballast 
on  the  waves  of  the  world.  Duality  is  the 
root,  out  of  which  alone,  for  mortals,  happiness 
can  spring.  And  the  old  Hindoo  mythology, 
which  is  far  deeper  in  its  simplicity  than  the 
later  idealistic  pessimism,  expresses  this  beau- 
tifully by  giving  to  every  god  his  other  half; 
the  supreme  instance  of  which  dualism  is  the 
divine  Pair,  the  Moony-crested  god  and  his 
inseparable  other  half,  the  Daughter  of  the 
Snow:  so  organically  symbolised  that  they 
coalesce  indistinguishably  into  one:  the 
Arddandri,  the  Being  half  Male  half  Female. 
He  whose  left  half  is  his  wife.  That  is  the  true 
ideal:  cut  in  two,  and  destroyed,  by  the  dis- 
mal inhuman  monotheism  of  later  sophistical 
speculation. 

It  was  Long  before    1    understood    this:    the 
solution  came  to  me  suddenly,  of  its  own  ae- 


xx  Introduction 

cord,  as  all  profound  solutions  always  come, 
apparently  by  accident:  like  a  "fluke"  in  a 
game  of  skill,  where  often  unskilfulness  unin- 
tentionally does  something  that  could  not  be 
achieved  by  any  degree  of  skill  whatever, 
short  of  the  divine. l  And  the  two  things  that 
combined  to  produce  my  spark  of  illumination 
were,  as  it  so  fell  out,  the  two  things  that  mean 
most  to  me,  a  sunset  and  a  child.  The  child 
was  looking  at  the  sunset,  and  I  was  looking  at 
the  child.  Some  readers  of  these  stories  have 
been  introduced  to  her  before,  and  will  be 
obliged  to  me  for  renewing  the  acquaintance, 
as  they  would  be  to  the  postman  who  brought 
them  news  of  an  old  friend. 

The  sunset  was  like  every  other  sunset,  the 
garment  of  a  dying  deity,  and  a  gift  of  god: 
but  it  had  a  special  peculiarity  of  its  own,  and 
it  was  this  strange  peculiarity  that  arrested 
the  attention  of  the  child.  For  children  are 
little  animals,  terram  spectantia,  taking  sun- 
sets and  other  commonplaces  such  as  mother, 
father,  home,  furniture,  and  carpets,  generally 


1  O  quantum  est  subitis  casibus  ingenium!  an  exquisite  line  of 
Martial  which  ought  to  be  posted  on  a  board  on  every  putting- 
green. 


Introduction  xxi 

for  granted,  being  as  a  rule  absorbed  in  the 
great  things  of  life,  that  is,  play.  This  child 
was  very  diligently  blowing  bubbles,  occasion- 
ally turning  aside  up  a  by-path  to  make  a 
bubble-pudding  in  the  soap-dish :  the  ruckling 
noise  of  this  operation  possessing  some  magical 
fascination  for  all  childhood.  And  in  the 
meanwhile,  yellow  dusk  was  gradually  deep- 
ening in  the  quiet  air.  Presently  the  tired  sun 
sank  like  a  weight,  red-hot,  burning  his  way 
down  through  filmy  layers  of  Indian  ink.  The 
day  had  been  rainy,  but  the  clouds  had  all 
dissolved  imperceptibly  away  into  a  broken 
chain  of  veils  of  mist,  which  looked  with  the 
sun  behind  them  like  dropping  showers  of 
liquid  gold,  or  copper-coloured  waterfalls: 
while  underneath  or  through  them  the  lines 
of  low  blur  hills  showed  now  half  obscured, 
now  clear  and  sharp  in  outline  as  if  cut  with 
scissors  out  of  paper  and  stuck  upon  the 
amber  background  of  the  sky.  And  then 
came  the  miracle.  Right  across  the  horizon, 
a  little  higher  than  the  sun,  a  long  thin  bar 
of  cloud  suddenly  changed  colour,  becoming 
rich  dark  purple,  and  all  along  its  jagged  upper 
edge    the   light   shot   out    in    out'   continuous 


xxii  Introduction 

sheet  of  bright  glory  to  the  zenith,  while  below 
there  poured  from  the  bar  a  long  cascade,  a 
very  Niagara  of  golden  mist  and  rain,  as  if  the 
flood-gates  of  some  celestial  dam  had  suddenly 
given  way,  and  all  the  precious  stuff  were 
escaping  in  a  cataract  through  the  rift,  in  one 
gigantic  plunge,  to  be  lost  for  ever  in  some 
bottomless  abyss. 

Suddenly,  the  dead  silence  struck  me:  my 
ear  missed  the  "ruckle,"  and  the  occasional 
exclamations  of  delight.  I  turned  abruptly 
and  glanced  at  the  child.  She  was  standing 
still  as  a  stone,  with  one  hand  just  in  front  of 
her  holding  the  forgotten  pipe,  arrested  on  the 
way  to  her  mouth,  as  the  heavenly  vision 
struck  her:  rapt,  lost  in  her  eyes,  which  were, 
filled  with  wonder  to  the  brim,  open-mouthed, 
entranced,  with  a  smile  on  her  lips  of  which 
she  was  totally  unconscious,  faint,  involuntary, 
seraphic,  indescribable.  The  ecstasy  of  union 
had  swallowed  her:  she  was  gone.  I  called 
her  by  her  name:  she  never  heard:  her  soul 
was  away  at  the  golden  gates. 

And  I  said  to  myself,  as  I  gazed  at  her  with 
intense  curiosity,  mixed  with  regret  that  I  was 
not  Raffael,  so  marvellous  was  the  picture: 


Introduction  xxiii 

This,  this  is  the  wisdom  of  the  sages,  the  secret 
of  Plotinus  and  the  Buddhists :  this  is  Nirwana, 
Moksha,  Yoga,  the  unattainable  ecstasy  of 
bliss,  the  absolute  fruition,  which  men  call 
by  many  names:  the  end  towards  which  the 
adult  strives,  in  vain,  to  recover  what  he  lost 
by  ceasing  to  be  a  child:  a  child,  which  is  sex- 
less, knowing  as  yet  nothing  of  the  esoteric 
dissatisfaction  of  the  soul  that  wants  and  has 
not  found.  Aye!  to  reach  the  mystic  union, 
the  absolute  extinction  of  the  Knower  in  the 
All;  to  lose  one's  Self  in  Infinity,  without  a 
remnant  of  regret;  to  attain  to  the  unattain- 
able, the  point  of  self-annihilation  where  all 
distinction  between  subject  and  object,  some- 
thing and  nothing,  disappears,  it  is  necessary 
to  be  a  child :  to  be  born  again.  Rebirth  !  the 
key  to  the  enigma  of  unhappiness  lies  there! 

And  after  a  while,  as  I  watched  her,  she 
came  back  to  herself.  Our  eyes  met;  and 
she  looked  at  me  long,  with  a  far-off  expression 
that  I  could  not  define.  And  at  last,  she  gave 
a  little  sigh:  Daddy,  she  said,  why  does  the 
golden  rain  never  fall  here?  Our  rain  is  always 
only  common  rain. 


xxiv  Introduction 

And  I  said  solemnly:  Little  girls  are  the 
reason  why.  But  she  didn't  understand. 
She  looked  at  me  reproachfully  with  puzzled 
eyes — such  great,  grey,  beautiful,  sea-green 
eyes! — and  then  drew  a  long  breath.  And 
she  went  back  to  her  bubbles,  and  together 
we  watched  them  go  as  they  floated  away  into 
the  valley,  wild  with  excitement  as  to  whether 
my  bubble  or  her  bubble  would  go  farthest 
before  it  burst — till  the  Rhadamanthine  sum- 
mons came  and  the  Bubble-Blower  went  to  bed. 

POONA,    1 919. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I. — On  the  Banks  of  Ganges  3 

II.     The  Heart  of  a  Woman  .  15 

III.     A  Story  without  an  End   .  .  207 


The  Vignette  I  owe  to  the  artistic  genius  of  my  friend- 
Arthur  I  light. 


xxv 


ON  THE  BANKS  OF  GANGES 


I 

$n  tbc  Banfee  of  (Banges 


BENEDICTION 

What!  the  Digit  of  the  Moon  on  his  brow,  Gangd  in 
his  hair,  and  Gauri  on  his  knee,  and  yet  proof  against 
all  Love's  arrows!  0  wonder  of  wonders!  who  but  the 
greatest  of  all  the  gods  would  not  have  melted  long  ago. 
like  butter  between  three  fires?1 

Now,  long  ago,  it  happened,  that  Parwati  was 
left  alone  on  Kailas  for  a  little  while,  as  she 
waited  for  the  Lord  of  the  Moony  Tire.  And 
having  nothing  else  to  do,  she  amused  herself 
by  building  an  elephant  of  snow,  with  large 
ears  and  a  little  tail,  made  of  a  yak's  hair. 
And  when  it  was  finished,  she  was  so  delighted 
with  her  toy,  that  she  began  to  clap  her  hands: 

1  Mahcshwara  is  the  a  etic  par  excellence,  who  punished  Love 
for  byil  pt  him  by  burning  him  up  like  a  moth  with  a 

fiery  glani  e  from  his  third  ej  ■•  And  yet  for  all  that,  the  Master 
Vogl  '.v.i  .  not  always  proof  against  feminine  fascination:  he 
might  he  cha  t<-  a  .  ice,  y*t  he  has  not  escaped  ft  aiulal. 


4        The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

and  then,  not  being  able  to  endure  waiting, 
she  went  off  with  impatience  to  fetch  the 
Moony-crested  god,  to  show  him  what  she  had 
done,  and  revel  in  his  applause.  And  the 
moment  that  her  back  was  turned,  Nandi1 
happened  to  come  along :  and  just  as  he  reached 
the  elephant,  which  owing  to  his  abstraction 
he  never  noticed,  taking  it  for  a  mere  hump, 
formed  at  random  by  the  snowdrifts,  he  was 
suddenly  seized  with  an  irresistible  desire  to 
roll.  And  so,  over  he  rolled,  and  went  from 
side  to  side,  throwing  up  his  legs  into  the  air. 
And  as  luck  would  have  it,  exactly  at  that 
very  moment  the  Daughter  of  the  Snow  re- 
turned, pulling  Maheshwara  along  eagerly  by 
the  hand.  And  she  looked  and  saw  Nandi, 
rolling  about  on  the  flat  snow  just  where  she 
had  left  her  elephant,  which  was  gone.  And 
she  uttered  a  loud  cry,  and  stood,  aghast  with 
rage  and  disappointment.  And  she  opened 
her  mouth  to  curse  the  author  of  the  mischief, 
and  was  on  the  very  verge  of  saying:  Sink 
into  a  lower  birth,  thou  insolent  destroyer! 
when  Maheshwara  stopped  her  in  the  very  act, 

1  Nandi  is  the  divine  Bull,  on  which,  or  whom,  the  Great  God 
rides. 


On  the  Banks  of  Ganges  5 

guessing  her  intention,  by  putting  his  hand 
upon  her  mouth.1  And  he  exclaimed:  Say 
nothing  rash,  O  angry  one,  for  Nandi  did  not 
do  it  on  purpose,  after  all.  And  a  good  ser- 
vant does  not  deserve  cursing,  for  an  accidental 
blunder. 

And  then,  Parwati  burst  into  tears.  And 
she  exclaimed:  Out  of  my  sight,  thou  clumsy 
one!  for  I  cannot  bear  to  see  thee.  And  she 
turned  away,  sobbing.  And  Maheshwara 
looked  at  her  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye,  and 
he  said  to  himself:  Now,  then,  I  must  do 
something  to  console  her  for  the  elephant,  and 
bring  back  her  good  humour.  For  ill  humour 
in  a  woman  spoils  all.  And  presently  he  said: 
Come  now,  enough !  for  Nandi  has  gone  off  in 
disgrace,  sufficiently  punished  by  banishment 
for  a  time,  and  very  sad  to  have  been  the  un- 
witting cause  of  thy  distress.  And  let  us 
roam  about  awhile,  in  search  of  something 
new,  that  may  help  to  obliterate  recollection, 
and  change  thy  gloom  into  a  smile. 

And  he  took  the  goddess  in  his  arms,  and 
set  her  as  she  sobbed  upon  his  knee,  and  rose 

1  Bad  the  awful  word  pa  ed  her  lips,  Nandi  mi  a  doomed 
bull,  as  a  curse  once  attend  is  irrcvo<  able. 


6        The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

from  the  peak  of  Kailas,  and  shot  like  a  falling 
star  down  into  the  plain  below.  And  coming 
to  Haradwara,  where  Ganga  issues  from  the 
hills,  he  began  to  follow  the  holy  stream  down 
its  course,  gliding  along  just  above  it  like  a 
cloud  that  was  unable  to  refrain  from  watching 
its  own  beautiful  reflection  in  the  blue  mirror 
of  her  wave.  And  so  they  went,  until  at  last 
they  reached  an  island  that  was  nothing  but 
a  sandbank  in  the  very  middle  of  the  river, 
covered  with  crocodiles  lying  basking  in  the 
sun.  And  then  he  said :  See!  we  will  go  down, 
and  rest  awhile  among  the  crocodiles  on  this 
sand,  whose  banks  resemble  nothing  so  much 
as  the  outline  of  thy  own  graceful  limbs.  And 
Uma  said  tearfully :  Pish !  what  do  I  care  for 
crocodiles,  that  sit  for  hours  never  even  moving, 
like  a  yogi  in  a  trance? 

Then  said  the  cunning  god:  None  the  less, 
we  will  go  down :  for  it  may  be  that  the  island 
contains  something  besides  its  crocodiles. 
And  as  they  settled  on  it,  he  said  again:  Did 
I  not  say  we  should  find  something?  for 
yonder  it  lies,  and  it  is  a  very  great  curiosity 
indeed.  And  now,  canst  thou  tell  me  what 
it  is? 


On  the  Banks  of  Ganges  7 

And  she  looked  at  it  with  scrutiny,  and  pre- 
sently she  said:  I  can  tell  this  only,  that  it 
must  have  been  in  the  water  for  a  very  long 
time,  before  it  was  washed  up  at  last  upon  this 
bank  by  the  river's  flood:  since  it  is  but  a 
shapeless  lump,  covered  with  sand  and  rust 
and  dirt.  Who  but  thyself  could  even  guess 
what  it  might  be?  And  Maheshwara  said: 
It  has  had  a  very  long  journey,  and  been  not 
only  in  the  river,  but  in  a  crocodile  too.  For 
crocodiles  swallow  everything.  And  long  ago, 
this  was  carried  by  a  man,  who  was  drowned 
in  another  stream  by  the  upsetting  of  his  boat, 
and  became  with  all  he  carried  the  prey  of  an 
old  crocodile,  which  died  long  ago,  and  rotted 
away,  letting  this  at  last  escape  out  of  its 
tomb,  and  roll  along,  till  at  last  it  got  into  the 
Ganges,  and  was  thrown  up  here  in  the  rainy 
season,  only  the  other  day.  And  when  at  last 
the  water  sank,  lo!  there  it  lay,  as  it  has  lain 
until  this  moment,  as  if  expecting  thy  arri- 
val, to  provide  thee  with  entertainment.  And 
when  all  is  over,  thou  wilt  very  likely  bless 
Nandi,  instead  of  cursing  him ;  since  but  for  his 
awkwardness  in  rolling  on  thy  elephant,  thou 
wouldst  never  have  known  anything  about  it. 


8        The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

And  Parwati  said  peevishly:  Where  is  the 
entertainment  in  this  foolish  lump  of  flotsam, 
of  which  thou  hast  related  the  adventures 
without  ever  saying  what  it  is? 

And  the  Moony-crested  god  said:  Aha! 
Snowy  One,  do  not  be  too  sure.  For  many 
things  hold  in  their  heart  things  not  to  be 
anticipated,  judging  by  their  outside:  and  this 
lump  which  thou  despisest  is  like  a  cocoa-nut, 
whose  coarse  skin  is  full  of  nectar.  But  it  has 
been  shut  so  long,  that  it  would  not  easily  be 
opened  by  anyone  but  me. '  And  he  touched 
it  with  his  foot,  saying,  Open!  and  it  opened 
like  a  shell.  And  he  said:  See!  it  has  in  it  a 
very  strange  kernel,  preserved  safe  and  sound 
only  because  all  its  adventures  added  to  its 
case,  sheath  after  sheath.  And  all  the  leaves 
are  still  there,  a  very  little  mouldy,  and  the 
silk  that  tied  them,  and  the  seal.  And  the 
goddess  said:  But  what  is  it  after  all?  And 
Maheshwara  said :  It  is  a  case  of  urgency,  that 
all  came  to  nothing  in  the  end,  being  a  letter 
that  never  even  reached  its  destination,  be- 
cause the  sender  was  in  so  great  a  hurry  that 

1  Because  he  is  the  Lord  of  Creatures  animate  or  inanimate, 
which  all  obey  him. 


On  the  Banks  of  Ganges  9 

he  defeated  his  own  object,  bidding  his  mes- 
senger go  so  fast  that  in  his  haste  his  boat 
turned  over,  and  he  and  his  message  were 
eaten  on  their  way  by  a  river  beast.  For  those 
who  go  too  fast  often  go  so  slow  as  never  to 
arrive  at  all,  as  was  the  case  here.  Then  said 
Uma:  He  that  sent  it  must  have  been  a  fool. 
And  Maheshwara  said:  Nay,  O  Snowy  One, 
not  at  all ;  far  from  it :  and  yet  he  became,  as 
many  do,  a  fool  for  the  occasion,  under  the 
influence  of  passion,  which  blinds  the  eyes, 
and  shuts  up  the  ears,  and  twists  the  whole 
character  awry,  so  that  it  acts  in  a  manner 
contrary  to  itself,  as  if  the  man  had  been  sud- 
denly changed  into  another,  or  his  body  en- 
tered by  a  Wetala,  in  the  temporary  absence 
of  his  soul. 

And  Parwati  said:  What  was  the  passion 
here  ?  And  the  Moony-crested  god  said  slowly : 
It  was  a  threefold  cord,  and  very  strong:  love, 
and  love  turned  by  intense  disappointment 
into  hatred,  and  rage  against  a  rival:  each 
by  itself  alone  enough  to  turn  reason  into  mad- 
ness. But  the  whole  story  is  told,  by  its  hero 
himself,  in  the  very  letter:  and  if  thou  wilt, 
I  will  read  it  aloud  to  thee,  exactly  as  he 


io      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

wrote  it,  word  for  word.  And  the  goddess 
said:  Thou  knowest  all:  why  not  tell  it  in 
thy  own  way,  without  the  trouble  of  reading? 
And  Maheshwara  said :  Nay ,  on  the  contrary, 
it  is  far  better  to  let  him  tell  it  for  himself: 
for  who  knew  everything  better  than  he  did? 
And  moreover,  every  story  told  by  a  stranger 
is  imperfect,  since  he  is  obliged  to  fill  up  the 
gaps  in  his  knowledge  by  imagination  or  con- 
jecture: whereas,  when  the  actor  in  it  all  is 
himself  the  narrator,  it  is  the  very  truth  itself, 
unless  he  expressly  desires  to  conceal  it,  which 
is  not  the  case  here.  For  he  was  very  anxious 
indeed  to  tell  his  enemy  everything,  on  purpose 
to  offend  him :  and  he  only  made  one  mistake, 
which  I  will  show  thee  in  due  time.  So  I  will 
read  it  exactly  as  it  stands,  omitting  absolute- 
ly nothing.  And  the  Daughter  of  the  Snow 
said:  Read.  But  she  thought:  If  it  is  not 
worth  hearing,  I  will  simply  go  to  sleep  as  he 
reads.  And  Maheshwara  said :  Nay,  O  Snowy 
One,  I  will  guarantee  that  thou  dost  not  go  to 
sleep. 

And  then,  the  goddess  suddenly  threw  her 
arms  about  his  neck,  and  hid  her  face  on  his 
breast.     And  she  said:  What  is  the  use  of 


On  the  Banks  of  Ganges         n 

trying  to  hide  anything  at  all  from  thee? 
Read.  But  for  all  that,  I  will  go  to  sleep, 
if  I  choose.  And  the  Moony-crested  god  said 
with  a  smile:  Aye!  but  thou  wilt  not  choose. 
And  then  he  began  to  read,  throwing  away 
the  leaves  as  they  ended,  one  by  one  into  the 
stream,  which  carried  them  away.  And  the 
crocodiles  all  lay  round  him  in  a  circle,  wor- 
shipping their  Lord,  as  he  read. 


II 

THE  HEART  OF  A  WOMAN 


'3 


II 

Gbc  Ibeart  of  a  TOoman 


As  the  black  cobra  sits  up,  and  purls  his  hood, 
and  hisses,  giving  warning  to  his  prey,  ere  he 
strikes,  so  I,  Shatrunjaya1  the  lute-player, 
son  of  a  king,  do  send  this  my  menace  to  thee, 
Narasinha,  the  lover  of  a  queen  too  good  for 
so  vile  a  thing  as  thou  art:  that  none  here- 
after may  be  able  to  say,  I  struck  thee  un- 
warned, or  took  thee  unawares.  Know,  that 
night  doth  not  more  surely  or  more  swiftly 
follow  day,  than  I  and  my  vengeance  will 
follow  on  the  messenger  who  carries  this 
threat:  whom   I   have  bidden   tp  reach   thee 

1  Pronounce  in  three  syllables,  Shul-roon-jye:  it  means,  one  who 
triumphs  over  his  foes.  So  again,  in  three  syllables,  Narasing: 
which  means,  man-lion,  alluding'  to  one  of  Wishnu's  incarnations. 
(BoTOpOM  do  not  adequately  realise  that  the  short  final  a,  in 
Sanskrit,  is  always  mute.  They  pronounce,  e.g.,  Rama,  Krishna, 
t  the  last  letter  were  long.     They  arc  monosyllables.) 

1.1 


1 6      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

with  his  utmost  speed,  so  as  to  allay  my  thirst 
for  thy  life ;  since  every  day  that  I  wait  seems 
to  me  longer  than  a  yuga.  And  I  will  slay 
thee  with  no  other  weapon  than  my  two  bare 

hands 

And  suddenly,  the  great  god  stopped,  and 
he  laughed  aloud.  And  he  exclaimed:  See 
now,  how  this  poor  lute-player  deceived  him- 
self !  For  his  message  not  only  never  reached 
his  enemy  at  all,  but  almost  as  soon  as  it  had 
left  him,  he  was  himself  slain  by  the  emissaries 
of  the  very  man  he  meant  to  kill,  who  never 
sent  him  any  warning  at  all,  but  took  him  un- 
awares, and  slew  him,  escaping  by  anticipation 
the  fate  that  was  in  store  for  himself,  without 
even  knowing  anything  of  all  that  this  letter 
would  have  taught  him,  and  so  far  from  dying, 
living  to  a  very  great  age.  And  this  instance 
shows,  that  the  most  dangerous  of  enemies 
is  one  that  never  threatens  till  he  actually 
strikes,  resembling  not  the  cobra,  but  the 
adder,  as  Shatrunjaya  discovered  to  his  cost, 
too  late. ' 


'"The  menace  prevented  the  deed,"  observes  Gibbon,  of  a 
would-be  assassin  of  Commodus.  That  was  also  the  error  of 
the  Germans,  in  1914. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         17 

And  the  Daughter  of  the  Snow  exclaimed, 
in  wrath:  Why  hast  thou  stopped,  to  tell  me 
the  end  of  the  story,  before  even  reaching  the 
beginning? 

And  Maheshwara  said:  Aha!  Snowy  One, 
thou  art  not  yet,  as  it  seems,  asleep.  Many 
are  the  beginnings  that  never  reach  an  end: 
but  it  will  do  this  story  no  harm  at  all,  to 
begin  with  the  end,  since  all  the  essence  of  it 
lies  in  the  middle,  and  as  thou  wilt  find,  it 
ends  in  the  middle,  and  yet  never  ends,  even 
when  it  is  done.  What  I  have  told  thee  does 
not  matter  in  the  least;  what  matters  is  the 
Queen,  for  she  was  the  most  extraordinary  of 
all  women,  past,  present,  or  to  come. 

And  Parwati  said:  Let  the  letter  speak  for 
itself:  and  if  thou  hast  anything  to  say,  keep 
it  for  the  end.  For  nothing  is  more  unendur- 
able than  a  commentary,  upon  a  text  which 
is  unknown. 


II 


And  Maheshwara  said:  Thus  the  letter 
continues: — for  there  is  not  room  in  one  world 
for  us  both.  And  well  thou  knowest  the  reason 
why.  For  the  Queen  told  me,  the  very  last 
time  that  I  saw  her,  that  it  would  be  the  very 
last  time,  as  indeed  it  was.  And  when  I  asked 
why  she  would  see  me  no  more,  she  said,  that 
thine  was  the  order,  to  send  me  away.  Dog! 
was  she  thine  to  command,  or  was  I?  And 
yet,  I  knew  very  well,  it  was  all  thy  doing, 
before  ever  she  told  me.  For  never  would 
she  have  behaved  as  she  did,  had  she  not  been 
pushed  from  behind:  and  the  very  first  time 
that  we  met,  when  she  told  me  of  thee,  I  un- 
derstood, and  foresaw,  and  expected,  the 
very  thing  that  has  happened,  looking  to  find 
thee  hiding  behind  her,  to  rid  thee  of  a  rival 
whom  thou  hadst  not  the  courage  openly  to 
face.  And  dost  thou  dare  to  condemn  me 
for  doing  the  very  same  thing  thou  wast  doing 

18 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         19 

thyself?  Was  not  my  claim  to  love  her  as 
good  as  thine  own?  Or  what,  O  cowardly 
dastard,  does  that  man  deserve,  who  screens 
himself  behind  the  clothes  of  a  woman  to  strike 
at  a  foe?  I  will  answer  the  question,  and 
show  thee,  by  ocular  proof,  very  soon.  But 
now,  in  the  meantime,  I  will  open  thy  eyes, 
and  tell  thee,  from  the  very  beginning,  all 
that  took  place.  And  thou  shalt  learn  how  I 
stole  her  away  from  thee,  in  spite  of  thee,  as 
presently  I  will  come  to  rob  thee  also  of  thy 
life.  And  I  will  embitter  thy  life,  and  ooison 
it,  first:  and  then  I  will  take  it  awav. 


Ill 


And  yet,  strange  indeed  was  the  way  that 
I  met  her.  I  cannot  tell,  whether  it  was  a  re- 
ward or  a  punishment  for  the  deeds  of  a  pre- 
vious birth.  For  the  joy  of  it  would  have 
been  cheap,  bought  at  the  price  of  a  hundred 
lives:  and  yet  the  sorrow  is  greater  than  the 
joy.  And  it  happened  thus.  I  was  roaming 
through  the  world,  with  my  lute  for  my  only 
companion.  For  all  men  know,  as  thou  must 
also,  that  I  turned  my  back  upon  my  heredi- 
tary kingdom,  and  quarrelled  with  all  my  rela- 
tions, and  left  them,  all  for  the  sake  of  my 
lute.  For  ever  since  I  was  a  child,  I  have 
cared  for  absolutely  nothing  but  my  lute,  and 
as  I  think,  I  must  have  been  a  Gandharwa1 
in  the  birth  before,  since  the  sound  of  the 
tones  of  its  strings,  touched  by  the  hand  of  a 
master  musician,  leads  me  like  an  ox  that  is 
pulled  by  a  cord,  the  very  moment  I  hear  it, 

1  A  heavenly  musician. 

20 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         21 

and  I  stand  still,  like  one  that  listens  with 
tears  in  his  eyes  to  the  memory  of  the  voice  of 
a  friend  that  is  dead.  Ha!  very  wonderful 
are  the  influences  of  a  forgotten  birth!  For 
I  was  an  anomaly,  behaving  not  according  to 
my  caste,  which  was  that  of  a  Rajpoot;  and 
not  music,  but  fighting,  was  my  proper  work, 
and  my  religion. '  And  it  was  as  if  my  mother 
had  been  caught  sleeping  in  the  moonlight  on 
the  terrace  of  the  palace  in  the  hot  season  by 
some  king  of  the  Widyadharas  passing  by, 
and  looking  down  from  the  air.  For  heavenly 
beings  often  fall  into  such  temptations,  and 
even  an  ascetic  would  have  found  it  hard  to 
laugh  at  the  arrows  of  Manobhawa,  coming 
in  the  form  of  such  a  feminine  fascination  as 
hers,  lying  still  in  the  lunar  ooze  at  midnight, 
with  her  head  pillowed  on  her  arm.  And  yet, 
for  all  my  music,  I  was  the  tallest  and  strong- 
est of  all  my  clan,  and  a  hunter,  when  I  chose, 
that  could  bear  fatigue  even  better  than  a 
Bhil. 

And  then  at  last  there  came  a  day  when  the 


'  Dharma  dOM  DOt  mean  religion  in  our  sense  of  the  word.      It 
mean.,  for  every  man,  that  set  of  obligations  laid  on  liiin  by  his 

•  rerybody'e  dkarmo  ie  different, 


22      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

King,  my  father,  sent  for  me.  And  when  I 
came,  he  looked  at  me  with  approval,  and  he 
said:  Thou  art  a  man  at  last.  And  yet  they 
tell  me,  thou  dost  nothing  all  day  long  but 
sit  playing  thy  lute.  Canst  thou  really  be 
my  son,  or  art  thou  some  musician's  brat, 
foisted  into  my  son's  place  by  some  dark 
underhand  intrigue,  when  I  was  looking  the 
other  way?  For  who  ever  heard  of  a  Yuwa- 
raja, l  destined  to  sit  upon  the  throne  when  I 
have  entered  the  fire,  neglecting  all  his  duties 
for  the  sake  of  a  lute's  strings?  Come  now, 
throw  thy  lute  away,  and  leave  music  to  the 
professionals  who  have  nothing  else  to  do, 
and  apply  thyself  to  policy,  and  the  things  of 
a  king's  trade.  And  I  said:  What  do  I  care 
for  a  kingdom  in  comparison  with  my  lute? 
I  will  not  throw  it  away,  no,  not  for  a  hundred 
kingdoms.  I  am  a  devotee  of  Radha's  lover,2 
and  I  care  nothing  for  any  raj.  Then  my 
father  flew  into  a  rage.  And  he  said:  Thou 
shalt  do,   not   as  thou  wilt,   but  as  I   will. 


1  A  crown  prince.  Palace  intrigues  were  common  in  the  old 
Hindoo  courts.  Each  wife  thought  of  nothing  but  providing  the 
heir  to  the  throne,  if  not  by  fair  means,  then  by  foul. 

3  Krishna,  the  lute-player,  and  flute-player,  par  excellence. 
He  resembles  Odin  in  this  particular. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman  23 

Choose,  between  thy  wretched  lute,  and  the 
raj:  and  if  thou  dost  not  obey,  I  will  turn 
thee  off,  and  put  thy  younger  brother  in  thy 
place.  And  I  said:  There  are  kings  in  abun- 
dance everywhere,  but  those  who  can  really 
play  on  a  lute  are  very  few  indeed.  And  I 
am  one.  Let  who  will  be  a  Yuwaraja:  I  will 
choose  the  lute.  And  he  said,  in  wrath: 
Be  off!  and  play  dirges  to  the  memory  of 
thy  dead  succession,  for  thou  art  no  longer 
heir.  And  I  laughed  in  his  face,  and  went 
away,  and  got  on  my  horse,  and  turned  my 
back  upon  it  all,  and  rode  off  laughing  with 
my  lute  hanging  round  my  neck,  counting 
the  kingdom  as  a  straw.  And  thereafter,  I 
wandered  up  and  down,  from  place  to  place, 
living  as  I  pleased,  and  utterly  disregarding 
the  messages  that  reached  me  nearly  every 
day  from  my  mother,  who  sent  me  bags  of 
money  and  entreaties  to  return,  all  in  vain. 
And  my  story,  like  my  playing,  went  from 
mouth  to  mouth,  and  everywhere  I  went,  the 
people  said:  Ha!  there  goes  Shatrunjaya,  the 
mad  musician,  who  cares  more  for  a  dis- 
cord than  the  loss  of  his  hereditary  raj' 
Ha!  and  if  his  policy  were  only  equal  to  his 


24      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

playing,  what  a  king  he  would  have  made! 
And  what  a  fool  he  must  be,  to  care  for 
nothing  in  the  three  worlds  but  a  lute's 
strings! 


IV 


And  yet  they  were  all  wrong.  For  there 
was  another  thing  that  nobody  knew  any- 
thing about,  that  I  cared  for  even  more  than 
for  my  lute.  And  all  the  while  I  wandered,  I 
was  looking  for  a  thing  that  flew  before  me  the 
more  I  kept  pursuing  it,  like  the  setting  of  the 
sun.  And  yet  it  hung,  so  to  say,  always  just 
before  my  eyes,  like  a  picture  on  the  wall,  so 
that  often  I  used  to  talk  to  it,  as  if  it  were 
alive,  as  I  sat.  And  yet  it  never  answered, 
looking  back  at  me  in  silence  with  strange  kind 
eyes,  and  seeming  to  listen  to  me  gazing  at  it 
wistfully,  and  playing  on  my  lute.  And  this 
was  a  woman,  that  had  come  to  me  in  a  dream. 
For  but  a  little  while  before  I  quarrelled  with 
my  father,  I  was  lying,  on  a  day,  at  noon, 
when  I  had  been  following  a  quarry  in  the 
jungle  till  1  ached  with  fatigue,  resting  on  a 
river  bank :  and  so  as  I  lay,  unawares  I  fell 
asleep.      And    I    thought    that    I    wandered 

25 


26      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

through  a  palace  that  I  had  never  seen  before, 
till  suddenly  I  came  upon  a  terrace  that  stood 
on  the  very  margin  of  a  lake,  that  was  filled 
with  myriads  of  lotuses,  all  turned  red  by  the 
rays  of  the  setting  sun,  which  stood  never 
moving  on  the  top  of  a  low  hill,  as  if  it  were 
watching  me  to  see  what  I  should  do,  before 
it  went  away.  And  there  was  such  a  strange 
silence  that  I  began  to  be  afraid,  as  if  of  some- 
thing that  was  just  about  to  happen,  without 
knowing  what.  And  so  as  we  all  stood  wait- 
ing in  the  dusk,  I  and  the  lotuses  and  the  sun, 
all  at  once  I  heard  behind  me  a  voice  like  a 
kokila,  saying  quietly:  I  have  kept  thee  a 
long  while  waiting:  wilt  thou  forgive? 

And  I  turned  round,  and  looked,  and  lo! 
there  was  a  lady,  looking  at  me  with  a  smile. 
And  she  was  standing  so  absolutely  still,  that 
she  resembled  an  image  made  of  copper,  for 
exactly  like  the  lotuses,  she  was  all  red  in  the 
rays  of  the  sun,  and  her  dark  clothing  shone 
like  the  leaf  of  a  palm  seen  at  midnight  in  the 
glow  of  a  fire.  And  her  hair  was  massed  like 
that  of  an  ascetic  high  over  her  brow,  and  on 
its  dull  black  cloud  there  shone  a  gem  that 
resembled  a  star,  shooting  and  flickering  and 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         27 

changing  colour  like  a  diamond  mixed  with 
an  opal:  while  underneath,  her  eyes,  that 
resembled  pools  rilled  with  dusk  instead  of 
water,  were  fixed  on  me  as  if  in  meditation, 
as  if  half  in  doubt  as  to  whether  I  was  I. 
And  yet  her  lips  were  smiling,  not  as  if  they 
meant  to  smile,  but  just  because  they  could 
not  help  it,  driven  by  the  sweetness  of  the 
soul  that  lay  behind  them  to  betray  its  secret 
unawares.  And  the  perfect  oval  of  the  out- 
line of  her  face  was  lifted,  so  to  say,  into  the 
superlative  degree  of  soft  fascination  by  a 
faint  suggestion  of  the  round  ripeness  of  a 
fruit  in  its  bloom,  as  if  the  Creator,  by  some 
magical  extra  touch  of  his  chisel,  had  wished 
to  exclaim:  See  how  the  full  loveliness  of  a 
woman  surpasses  the  delicate  promise  of  a 
girl!  And  she  was  rather  tall,  and  she  stood 
up  very  straight  indeed,  so  straight,  that  my 
heart  laughed  within  me  as  I  looked  at  her, 
for  sheer  delight,  so  admirably  upright  was  the 
poise  of  her  figure,  and  yet  so  round  and  deli- 
cious was  the  curve  of  her  arms  and  slender 
waist,  that  rose  as  if  with  exultation  into  the 
glorious  magnificence  of  her  splendid  breast, 
on  which  her  left  hand  rested,  just  touching  it 


28      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

very  lightly  with  the  tips  of  her  fingers,  like 
a  wind-blown  leaf  lying  for  a  moment  exactly 
at  the  point  of  junction  of  two  mounds  of 
snow,  as  if  to  chide  it  very  gently  for  chal- 
lenging the  admiration  of  the  three  worlds.  And 
she  stood  with  her  weight  thrown  on  her  left 
foot,  so  that  her  right  hip,  on  which  her  right 
hand  rested,  swelled  out  in  a  huge  curve  that  ran 
down  to  her  knee,  which  was  bent  in,  and  then 
turned  outwards,  ending  in  a  little  foot  that 
was  standing  very  nearly  on  the  tip  of  its  toe. 
And  so  as  we  stood,  gazing  at  one  another 
in  dead  silence,  all  at  once  she  smiled  outright, 
holding  out  both  her  hands.  And  at  that  very 
moment,  the  sun  sank.  And  as  I  strove  in 
vain  to  move,  rooted  to  the  spot  like  a  tree, 
she  faded  away,  very  slowly,  back  again  into 
the  dark,  growing  little  by  little  paler,  till  she 
vanished  into  the  night,  leaving  nothing  but 
her  star,  that  seemed  to  glimmer  at  me  from 
a  great  distance,  low  down  on  the  very  edge 
of  a  deep-red  sky.  And  I  strove  and  struggled 
in  desperation  to  break  the  spell  that  held  me 
chained,  and  suddenly  I  woke  with  a  loud  cry, 
and  saw  before  me  only  the  river,  on  whose 
bank  I  was  lying  alone. 


Aye!  then  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I 
knew  what  it  meant  to  be  alone,  which  had 
been  to  me  but  a  mere  word,  without  any 
meaning  at  all.  For  as  I  sat  by  the  river,  I 
knew  I  had  left  my  soul  behind  in  the  dream 
that  had  disappeared.  And  my  heart  was 
burning  with  such  a  pain  that  I  could  only 
breathe  with  great  difficulty,  and  tears  rose 
into  my  eyes,  as  it  were  of  their  own  accord. 
And  I  said  sadly  to  myself:  Now,  beyond  all 
doubt,  I  have  seen  some  feminine  incarnation 
of  a  fallen  star,  and  unless  I  can  find  it  some- 
where on  earth,  I  shall  lose  the  fruit  of  being 
born  at  all.  So  one  thing  only  remains  to  do, 
and  that  is  to  look  for  her,  and  keep  on  look- 
ing till  I  find  her.  For  if  only  I  was  sure 
that  she  was  absolutely  beyond  finding,  I 
would  not  consent  to  remain  in  this  miserable 
body  without  her,  even  fof  a  single  moment. 

But  she  must  be  alive  somewhere,  and  able 

29 


30      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

to  be  found:  for  how  could  such  a  thing  as 
she  was  exist  only  in  a  dream?  For  nobody 
could  possibly  have  invented  her,  no,  not  even 
in  a  dream :  and  it  must  be  that  my  soul  went 
roaming  about  as  I  slept,  and  actually  caught 
sight  of  her.  And  if  the  soul  could  find  her, 
then,  she  is  somewhere  to  be  found,  even  by 
the  body:  but  alas!  the  body  cannot  travel 
so  easily  as  the  soul:  since,  in  his  haste,  the 
Creator  has  forgotten  to  give  wings  to  any- 
thing but  birds.  And  yet,  the  only  thing  to 
do  is  to  hunt  for  her  incessantly,  and  go  from 
place  to  place  without  stopping  for  a  moment : 
since  very  certainly  she  will  never  be  discov- 
ered if  I  remain  here  as  motionless  as  a  hill. 
So  I  must  escape  at  once,  on  some  pretence, 
without  letting  anybody  know  why. 

And  as  I  said,  I  did:  and  this  was  the  very 
reason  why  I  broke  with  my  relations,  and 
became  a  vagrant  instead  of  a  king's  heir. 
And  every  night  I  went  to  sleep  yearning  to 
dream  the  dream  again,  and  yet  it  never  came, 
though  even  in  my  sleep  I  seemed  in  every 
dream  to  be  roaming  everlastingly  in  jungles, 
and  along  roads  that  never  ended,  always  on 
the  very  point  of  finding  something  that  I 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         31 

never  found.  And  strange!  instead  of  driv- 
ing me  to  despair,  this  constant  failure  actu- 
ally gave  me  courage,  for  I  said:  If  the  dream 
had  really  been  only  a  dream  and  nothing 
more,  it  would  surely  have  returned,  beyond 
a  doubt:  since,  as  a  rule,  dreams  are  only 
pictures  in  the  night  of  what  men  think  of  in 
the  day.  And  yet  she  never  comes  again, 
although  I  think  of  nothing  else,  all  day  long, 
and  she  was  very  certainly  no  picture  of  any- 
thing that  I  ever  saw  before.  And  clearly, 
it  must  be  that  my  soul  did  actually  find  her, 
though  now  it  has  lost  its  way,  and  does  not 
know  how  to  return. 

And  in  the  meanwhile,  as  time  went  on,  the 
less  I  found  her,  the  more  I  fell  back  upon 
my  lute,  which  became  the  only  confidante  of 
my  secret,  and  my  sole  refuge  in  my  desolation. 
And  I  used  to  sit  playing,  thinking  all  the 
while  of  nothing  but  herself,  so  that  she  gradu- 
ally became  as  it  were  the  theme  and  the 
undertone  of  every  air.  And  the  listeners 
would  say:  Ha!  now  beyond  a  doubt  this 
player  on  the  lute  must  be  some  incarnation 
of  a  Kinnara,  for  the  sound  of  his  music  re- 
sembles that  of  the  wind  singing  in  the  hollows 


32      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

of  the  bamboos  that  wave  over  waterfalls  on 
the  sides  of  the  snowy  mountain:  and  his 
lute  seems  to  sob,  in  the  vain  endeavour  to 
express  some  melancholy  secret  that  for  want 
of  words  it  cannot  articulately  tell,  wringing 
as  it  were  its  hands  of  strings,  for  very  grief. 
And  I  became  a  byword,  and  the  fame  of  my 
music  was  carried  into  the  quarters  of  the 
world,  like  the  scent  of  the  sandal  that  the 
breeze  blows  from  the  Malaya  hill  in  the  region 
of  the  South. 

And  then  at  last  I  came,  on  a  day,  tired  out 
with  travel,  to  Kamalapura. 1  And  delighted 
with  its  trees  and  its  river,  and  its  lotuses,  I 
found  a  little  house,  and  lodged  in  it,  to  rest 
for  a  while.  And  one  morning,  there  came  to 
me  a  musician  of  the  city,  who  loved  me  for 
my  playing,  and  he  said:  How  comes  it,  0 
Shatrunjaya,  that  thou  hast  not  been  to  play 
to  Tarawali?2  And  I  said:  Who  is  Tarawali, 
that  I  should  go  to  play  to  her,  who  never  go 
to  anyone  at  all?  And  he  laughed,  and  ex- 
claimed: Who  is  Tarawali?  What!  dost  thou 
actually  say  that  thou  hast  never  even  heard 

1  i.e.,  the  city  of  lotuses.     The  final  a  is  mute. 

2  i.e.,  a  line  of  stars:  a  constellation:  a  star  intensified. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         33 

of  her,  the  Queen  of  this  city?  And  I  said:  I 
did  not  know  that  thy  Tarawali  was  the  same 
as  the  Queen,  of  whom  indeed  I  have  heard, 
very  often,  as  everybody  must  who  comes  to 
this  city:  for  as  it  seems,  the  citizens  never 
talk  of  anything  or  anybody  else,  never  saying 
anything  about  her  that  recommends  her  to 
me;  since,  as  I  understand,  she  is  an  independ- 
ent1 woman,  who  goes  her  own  way,  like  the 
wind,  caring  absolutely  nothing  where  it  takes 
her,  or  what  anybody  says.  And  he  said: 
Let  them  say  what  they  will,  at  least  she  is  a 
connoisseur  in  music,  and  plays  the  lute  her- 
self, though  not  so  well  as  thou.  And  they 
tell  me,  she  is  very  curious  to  see  thee,  and  to 
hear  thee,  of  whom  she  has  heard  so  much. 
And  I  said  carelessly:  The  curiosity  is  not 
reciprocal,  since  on  my  side  there  is  absolutely 
none.  And  moreover,  independent  women  are 
not  to  my  taste,  even  when  they  happen  to 
be  queens.  So  it  will  be  better  for  us  both 
to  leave  her  curiosity,  unsatisfied.  And  he 
said:  Well  have  they  named   thee,   the  mad 


1  That  is  to  say,  abandoned,  dissolute:  independence  being, 
in  old    Hindoo   car,,   a   synonym   for  every   possible  species  of 

depravity. 


34      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

musician :  for  thou  art  utterly  unlike  all  other 
men.  Thou  hast  thrown  away  thy  kingdom 
for  a  lute:  and  now  thou  sittest  like  a  stone, 
unmoved,  to  hear  that  even  Tarawali  is  curious 
on  thy  account:  a  thing  that  would  set  any 
other  man  dancing  for  delight,  like  a  peacock 
at  the  sight  of  a  cloud.  Art  thou  indeed  a 
stone,  or  is  it  sheer  ignorance  of  what  Tarawali 
is  like?  And  I  said:  And  what  then  is  she 
like?  And  he  said:  She  is  like  absolutely 
nothing  in  the  world  but  herself,  and  cannot 
therefore  be  described  at  all,  but  only  seen. 
So  the  only  way  to  get  thy  question  answered 
is  to  go  and  see  her  for  thyself.  And  I  said: 
Then  it  never  will  be  answered,  for  I  will  not 
go  and  see.  I  am  no  tame  animal,  to  go  where 
I  am  called:  I  am  wild.  And  he  said:  Aye! 
but  the  wild  swans  go  to  the  Manasa  lake  of 
their  own  accord.  Thou  art  like  a  young 
wild  swan,  refusing,  for  sheer  obstinacy, 
to  visit  the  very  place,  that,  had  it  only 
seen  it,  it  would  never  be  induced  to  desert 
again.  For  Tarawali  is  exactly  a  Manasa1 
for  such  a  swan  as  thee.     And  for  all  answer, 

1  There  is  here  an  untranslatable  play  on  manasa  and  manasi' 
jd  =a  feminine  god  of  love. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         35 

I  took  my  lute,  and  began  to  pluck  at  the 
strings. 

And  he  stood  for  a  while,  drumming  on  the 
sill  of  the  window  as  he  looked  out:  and  then 
he  turned  and  said :  If  thou  hast  no  curiosity, 
thou  hast  at  least  the  manners  of  a  king's  son. 
Wouldst  thou  be  so  uncivil  as  to  say  no  to  her 
invitation,  if  she  sent  to  thee,  to  come?  And 
I  said:  Why  suppose  what  never  can  occur? 
Surely  this  independent  queen  does  not  go  to 
such  a  length  as  to  act  like  an  abhisdrikd,  ■  and 
throw  herself  of  her  own  accord  at  the  head 
of  every  stranger  that  may  wander  through 
her  city?  And  he  laughed,  and  said :  Wouldst 
thou  actually  shut  thy  door  in  her  face,  even 
so,  if  she  were  an  incomparable  beauty? 
Even  an  abhisdrikd  might  be  welcome,  to 
anybody  but  thyself,  who  art  said  to  be  a  hater 
of  all  women  whatsoever.  And  I  said:  Why 
should  I  hate  all  women,  who  never  think  of 
them  at  all? 


1  Then-  1  ,  no  vulgarity  ill  this  idea:  it  is  a  poetical  decree  in 
the  seal<-  of  pan  ion.  An  abhisdrikd  is  a  lady  so  mastered  by  her 
love  that  she  cannot  wait  for  Ik t  lover,  but  goes  to  him  of  her 
own  BCCOnL  There  .'in-  all  IT!  >>f  conditions  laid  down  lo 
regulate  her  going:  she  mu  t  not  gO  in  hn.ad  daylight,  but  in  .1 
thunderstorm,  or  dusk. 


36      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

And  he  looked  at  me  for  a  long  while;  and 
then  he  said:  Who  knows?  Thou  art  so  sin- 
gular in  everything  that  it  is  just  barely  pos- 
sible that  thou  art  telling  me  the  truth,  though 
it  is  very  hard  to  believe  it,  in  the  mouth  of  a 
youth  like  thee.  And  yet,  if  as  thou  say  est 
thy  heart  be  really  empty,  Tarawali  could  fill 
it  for  thee,  easily  enough.  Aye!  even  if  it 
were  a  desert  equal  to  Marusthali  in  dryness 
and  extent,  a  single  glance  at  her  would  turn 
it  into  an  ocean,  tossing  with  agitation,  and 
running  over  with  excess  of  salt.  * 

And  then  he  went  away.  And  instantly  I 
forgot  all  about  her,  absorbed  in  my  lute  and 
the  recollection  of  my  dream. 

1  Ldwanya  means  loveliness  as  well  as  salt. 


VI 


But  next  morning,  when  I  awoke,  his 
words  all  came  back  to  me,  and  filled  me  with 
dismay.  And  I  sat  long  musing  over  them, 
and  saying  to  myself:  Now  after  all,  it  is  just 
possible  not  only  that  his  words  had  a  meaning, 
but  even  that  he  was  acting  as  an  agent  of  the 
Queen,  who  may  take  measures  to  make  me 
go  and  see  her,  whether  I  will  or  no :  since  she 
is,  as  it  seems,  a  musical  blue-stocking,  ■  ready 
to  force  herself  on  anybody  just  to  gratify  her 
vanity  by  claiming  admiration  for  her  musical 
proficiency,  which  nobody  would  acknowledge 
unless  she  were  a  queen.  Out  on  these  queens, 
that  dabble  in  matters  that  they  do  not  un- 
derstand, and  meddle  in  other  people's  busi- 
ness! But  now  I  will  steal  a  march  on  her  by 
making  my  escape  betimes,  and  I  will  go  this 
very  moment  and  order  my  horse  to  be  got 

1  The  exact  equivalent,  and  indeed  the  only  possible  trarola* 

tion  of  kupiitulitd. 

37 


38      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

ready,  to  give  her  the  slip,  in  case  she  may  be 
meditating  anything  very  disagreeable.  For 
if  she  finds  the  bird  flown,  she  will  give  it  up, 
once  for  all. 

And  I  went  to  the  door  and  opened  it,  and 
lo!  there  in  the  street  before  me  stood  a  wo- 
man, who  was  in  the  very  act  of  knocking  at 
the  door,  to  get  in,  so  that  as  I  pulled  it  open, 
she  very  nearly  fell  into  my  arms.  And  as 
she  drew  back  laughing,  I  looked  at  her  in 
blank  amazement.  For  she  resembled  a  femi- 
nine incarnation  of  the  dawn,  being  a  very 
Apsaras  for  beauty,  and  very  young,  and  very 
small,  and  dressed  in  a  garment  of  red  muslin, 
whose  edge  of  gold  ran  all  about  her  like  a 
snake. x  And  she  had  gold  bangles,  and  gold 
anklets,  and  gold  chains  about  her  neck,  and 
she  held  the  end  of  her  garment  drawn  over 
her  head  with  one  hand,  whose  arm  resembled 
a  creeper  spray,  so  that  I  could  only  just  see 
her  long  eyes  peeping  at  me  through  the  open- 

•This  is  due  to  the  peculiar  dress  of  Hindoo  women,  all  in 
one  piece,  and  put  on  so  that  the  edge  that  runs  around  the  feet 
afterwards  runs  up  diagonally  and  winds  around  the  whole  figure. 
No  national  costume  was  ever  better  calculated  to  set  off  the 
sinuosities  and  soft  grace  of  a  woman's  figure  to  advantage  than 
the  marvellous  simplicity  of  the  sari,  which  is  nothing  more  than 
a  very  long  strip  of  almost  anything  you  please. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman  39 

ing.  And  I  stood  awhile,  holding  the  door, 
and  looking  at  her  with  dismay,  that  was  very 
nearly  terror,  saying  to  myself:  Now,  after 
all,  I  am  caught,  for  here  she  is  in  person, 
running  to  me  of  her  own  accord.  And  at 
last  I  said  with  hesitation:  Art  thou  Tarawali? 
And  instantly,  that  strange  damsel  broke 
into  a  peal  of  laughter.  And  she  exclaimed: 
I,  Tarawali?  Art  thou  stark  mad?  Or  dost 
thou  imagine  Tarawali  would  come  to  people's 
doors?  Ha !  then,  but  as  it  seems,  thy  thoughts 
are  already  running  on  Tarawali.  But  let  me 
come  inside,  for  why  should  the  whole  street 
listen  to  our  conversation?  And  she  came  in 
quickly  and  stood  just  inside  the  door,  holding 
it  by  the  handle,  as  if  she  wanted  to  make 
sure  of  her  escape.  And  she  said:  Art  thou 
Shatrunjaya,  the  lute-player?  And  I  said: 
Yes.  Then  she  said:  Thou  deservest  almost 
to  be  slain,  for  such  an  extraordinary  blunder 
to  confound  such  a  thing  as  I  am  with  the 
Queen.  And  yet,  after  all,  thy  chance  arrow 
is  somewhere  near  the  mark:  for  if  I  am  not 
Tarawali,  at  least  I  am  her  shadow,  and  never 
Very  far  from  her,  being  her  confidential  maid. 
And  I  have  come  to  thee  now  with  a  mcssa, 


4°      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

from  herself :  and  it  is  this :  Tarawali  the  pupil 
stands  in  sore  need  of  Shatrunjaya  the  master, 
to  help  her  in  disentangling  the  quarter-tones 
of  a  theme:  and  she  will  await  him  in  her 
garden,  as  the  sun  goes  down. 

And  I  said:  What,  0  thou  red  beauty,  is  thy 
name?  And  she  said:  Chaturika.1  Then  I 
said :  Go  back,  O  Chaturika,  and  tell  the  Queen 
that  I  was  not  to  be  found.  I  will  not  come. 
And  here  is  gold  for  thee. 

And  Chaturika  brushed  away  my  bribe 
with  a  wave  of  her  pretty  arm.  And  she 
leaned  back  against  the  door,  holding  the 
handle  behind  her,  and  looking  up  at  me  from 
under  her  long  lashes,  with  sweet  crafty  eyes, 
and  eyebrows  lifted  high  into  a  double  arch. 
And  she  put  her  head  a  little  on  one  side,  and 
said,  with  a  smile:  Think  twice,  O  Shatrun- 
jaya. Art  thou  a  musician,  and  hast  thou 
never  heard  the  song:  Nectar  when  she  turns 
towards  thee:  poison  when  she  turns  away?2 
Or  hast  thou  never  tasted  nectar,  even  in  a 
dream?     Remember,  sunset!     And  she  shook 


1  i.  e.,  the  clever  one:  a  name,  like  Nipunika,  employed  in  Hindoo 
plays  to  denote  the  qualities  of  a  grisette :  Suzanne. 
2Anuraktdmritam  bald  wiraktd  wis  ham  ewa  sd. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         41 

at  me  her  forefinger,  and  suddenly  she  opened 
the  door,  and  slipped  out,  and  shut  it,  and  was 
gone;  leaving  me  staring  at  it  in  stupefaction, 
and  almost  believing  I  was  dreaming  so  ab- 
ruptly had  she  come  and  gone.  And  I  said 
to  myself  in  wonder:  Beyond  a  doubt,  she 
spoke  at  random,  knowing  nothing  of  my 
dream;  and  yet  she  made  me  jump,  for  her 
arrow  hit  the  mark  exactly  in  the  centre.  But 
if  the  maid  is  like  the  mistress,  of  whom  she 
said  herself,  she  was  the  shadow,  then  very 
sure  I  am,  it  is  not  either  maid  or  mistress,  or 
anybody  the  least  like  them,  that  could  realise 
my  dream.  But  all  the  same,  I  am  caught, 
for  the  moment,  in  their  noose:  and  what  is 
to  be  done  now?  For  she  will  go  straight 
back  and  tell  it  all,  to  this  overbearing  busy- 
body of  a  queen,  and  if  now  I  do  not  go,  it 
will  seem  an  incivility  almost  equal  to  an 
insult.  For  queens  do  not  like  to  be  refused, 
and  even  their  request  is  a  kind  of  order,  very 
difficult  to  disobey.  Out,  out,  upon  this  red 
intrusive  jade,  and  her  mistress,  and  above  all 
on  myself,  for  my  delay !  For  had  I  only  gone 
away  last  night,  I  should  have  got  clean  off. 

And  long  I  sat  de-bating,  balanced   in  the 


42      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

swing  of  indecision,  as  to  whether  I  should  go 
or  not.  And  at  last  I  exclaimed:  I  will  give 
her  just  a  chance.  And  I  drew  my  kattdri 
from  its  sheath,  and  I  said:  Now  I  will  throw 
it  into  the  air.  And  if  it  falls  back  upon  its 
point,  I  will  go  and  see  her:  but  if  not,  not. 
And  I  threw  it  up,  like  a  juggler,  so  that  it 
spun  very  quickly  like  a  wheel :  and  lo !  it  fell 
back,  and  stuck  exactly  on  its  point,  standing 
straight  up,  as  if  on  purpose  to  imitate  Chatu- 
rika's  forefinger,  and  saying  as  it  were:  See! 
thou  shalt  go,  willy  nilly,  at  sunset  to  the 
Queen. 

And  so,  seeing  that  I  must  absolutely  go, 
I  dismissed  it,  as  a  thing  determined,  from  my 
mind.  And  a  little  before  sunset,  I  went  out, 
and  moved  slowly  through  the  streets,  making 
for  the  palace  with  unwilling  feet.  And  when 
I  reached  it,  I  stood  still,  opposite  the  palace 
gates,  saying  to  myself:  There  is  still  just  time 
to  turn  back  and  go  away.  For  my  reluct- 
ance grew  upon  me  as  I  went,  with  every  step, 
as  if  some  presentiment  that  I  could  not  un- 
derstand was  warning  me  beforehand  of  all 
that  would  come  about.  And  I  said:  Now 
then,  I  will  give  myself  one  last  chance.     I  will 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         43 

stand  here  still,  and  count  a  hundred.  And 
if  in  the  time,  I  do  not  see  an  elephant  go  by, 
I  will  go  away,  bidding  good-bye  for  ever  to 
the  Queen.  And  then  I  began  to  count.  And 
strange!  at  that  very  moment,  I  looked  and 
saw  the  ankusha  of  a  mahdwat,  high  up  above 
the  crowd,  coming  round  the  corner.  And 
the  elephant  on  which  he  sat  passed  by  the 
palace  gates,  looking  at  me  as  it  were  with 
laughter  in  its  little  eye,  and  saying:  I  am 
just  in  time :  while  yet  I  had  fifty  still  to  count. 
So  near  I  came,  to  never  seeing  Tarawali 
at  all! 


VII 


So  then  at  last,  seeing  that  fate  was  against 
me,  and  that  there  was  absolutely  no  help 
for  it,  I  gave  up  the  struggle,  and  went  up 
to  the  gate.  And  learning  who  I  was,  the 
pratihdri1  led  me  away  into  the  palace,  and 
I  followed  her  through  innumerable  corri- 
dors and  halls,  until  at  last  we  came  to  a 
high  wall,  in  which  there  was  a  door,  screened 
by  a  curtain.  And  she  drew  aside  the  cur- 
tain, and  opened  the  door  with  a  key.  And 
she  said:  The  Queen  is  within:  knock  at 
the  door  on  thy  return.  And  I  went  in, 
and  she  shut  the  door  behind  me,  leaving  me 
alone. 

And  I  found  myself  in  a  garden,  of  which  I 
could  not  see  the  end,  for  it  rather  resembled 
a  forest  for  its  multitude  of  trees.     And  after 

1 A  female  door-keeper.  This  appears  to  have  been  customary 
in  old  times.  Runjeet  Singh  had  a  body-guard  of  women, 
dressed  like  boys. 

44 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         45 

a  while,  I  went  on  slowly  without  any  guide, 
going  wherever  my  steps  led  me,  and  saying 
to  myself  as  I  went  along:  Now  I  wonder 
where  the  Queen  is;  for  as  it  seems,  I  am  far 
more  likely  to  lose  myself  than  find  anything, 
in  such  a  maze  as  this.  And  then,  little  by 
little,  I  utterly  forgot  all  about  her,  lost  in 
my  admiration  of  the  place  that  I  was  in,  and 
saying  to  myself  in  wonder:  After  all,  I  did 
well  to  come,  and  it  was  well  worth  while,  if 
only  for  the  sake  of  this  extraordinary  wood, 
which  cannot  properly  be  called  a  garden, 
since  it  is  like  absolutely  nothing  else  in  the 
world.  For  there  were  no  flowers  to  be  seen 
at  all,  but  only  trees.  And  even  of  trees, 
there  were  only  four  kinds,  champak,  and 
shala,  and  nyagrodha,  and  bamboo.  But 
every  kind  of  tree  was  multiplied  many  times, 
and  each  was  a  very  giant,  and  a  marvel  of  its 
kind.  And  the  champaks  and  the  shdlas  were 
loaded  with  their  blossoms  that  filled  the  air 
with  heavy  fragrance,  and  glimmered  in  the 
dusk:  and  the  bamboos  stood  in  clumps,  like 
pillars,  each  as  thick  as  my  own  body,  with 
their  tall  plumes  waving  very  gently  to  and 
fro  like  chowris  over  my  head:  and  the  trunks 


46      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

and  the  roots  of  the  nyagrodhas1  writhed  and 
twisted  round  me  like  serpents'  coils  and 
women's  limbs,  pointing  at  me  as  it  were  with 
weird  wooden  arms,  till  I  felt  as  if  I  were 
walking  in  some  strange  dream  forest  whose 
Yakshas  and  Yakshinis  were  watching  me  and 
mocking  me  as  I  went  along.  And  suddenly, 
I  looked,  and  far  away  through  the  trees  I  saw 
the  moon  nearly  full  rising  slowly  like  a  great 
red  nocturnal  sun,  on  the  edge  of  the  pallid 
eastern  sky,  as  if  it  had  come  to  watch  me 
too,  before  the  sun  was  down.  And  a  feeling 
that  was  almost  fear  began  to  creep  into  my 
soul,  as  I  moved  on  slowly,  not  knowing  where 
I  was.  And  all  at  once,  I  came  out  suddenly 
upon  a  terrace  and  stood  still.  For  just  below 
me  was  a  lake,  whose  water  was  black,  and 
absolutely  still,  and  it  was  rilled  with  innu- 
merable lotuses,  that  stood  straight  up  out 
of  the  mirror  that  they  floated  in,  all  turned 

1  The  roots  of  these  great  figs  "grow  down"  (hence  their  name) 
from  the  branches,  often  coalescing  with  the  trunks  into  the 
most  extraordinary  shapes:  it  needs  no  imagination  to  see  Dry- 
ads under  the  bark:  they  are  visible  to  the  naked  eye.  The 
huge  leaves  and  great  white  blossom  of  the  shdla  make  it  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  of  earthly  trees:  as  the  champak  is  one  of  the 
most  weird,  like  a  great  candlestick  of  innumerable  branches 
whose  pale  flower-cups  grow  out  of  the  end  of  its  clumsy  fingers 
without  leaves. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         47 

red  by  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  which  was 
just  about  to  disappear,  taking  as  it  were  a 
last  fond  look  at  them,  as  it  stood,  blood-red, 
on  the  rim  of  the  world. 

And  then,  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  recol- 
lection rushed  into  my  soul.  And  my  heart 
gave  a  bound,  as  if  it  wanted  to  leap  from  my 
body.  And  I  exclaimed,  with  agitation:  Ha! 
Why,  it  is  the  very  lake,  and  these  are  the  very 
lotuses,  and  the  very  sun  that  I  saw  in  my 
dream !  And  even  as  I  spoke,  I  heard  behind 
me  the  low  sweet  voice  of  a  woman,  saying 
slowly:  I  fear  that  I  have  kept  thee  waiting 
for  a  long  time:  and  canst  thou  forgive  me? 

And  instantly  I  cried  out:  The  words!  the 
words!  And  I  turned  sharp  round,  shaking 
like  a  leaf,  with  a  heart  that  beat  in  my  body 
like  a  drum.  Lo!  there,  just  before  me,  stood 
the  lady  of  my  dream.  And  exactly  as  before, 
her  dark  blue  garments  shone  like  copper  in 
the  red  sun's  rays,  and  the  star  stood  trem- 
bling in  her  high  dark  hair.  And  exactly  as 
before,  she  stood  up,  absolutely  straight,  as 
if  on  purpose  to  throw  into  strong  relief  the 
undulating  curves  of  her  lovely  form,  and  yet 
she  differed  from  her  own  dream  in  this,  that 


48      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

her  soft  round  bosom  was  rising  and  falling 
like  an  agitated  wave,  as  if  she  had  been 
running  very  fast  with  nimble  feet,  that  had 
stopped  short,  at  the  sight  of  me.  And  she 
held  her  pretty  head,  with  appealing  grace,  just 
a  very  little  on  one  side,  looking  at  me  with 
great  sweet  eyes,  and  lips  that  smiled,  half- 
open,  as  if  to  let  her  breathe,  saying  as  it  were: 
I  know  that  I  am  very  guilty,  and  yet  I  am 
absolutely  sure  to  be  forgiven,  since  you  can- 
not find  it  in  your  heart  to  scold.  And  some- 
how or  other,  there  came  from  every  part  of 
her  as  it  were  the  delicious  fragrance  of  an 
extreme  desire  to  oblige  and  please,  that  ex- 
actly corresponded  with  the  excessive  gentle- 
ness of  the  voice  that  had  just  spoken;  and 
yet  it  was  mixed  in  some  inexplicable  way  with 
a  very  faint  suggestion  of  authority,  as  though 
to  say:  All  will  willingly  obey  me;  but  those 
who  will  not,  must.  And  one  hand  hung  down 
by  her  side,  holding  a  lute  by  a  yellow  string: 
while  the  other  was  playing  with  the  beads 
of  a  necklace  of  great  pearls,  that  lay  on  the 
ocean  of  her  surging  breast,  so  that  it  was 
carried  up  and  down  on  its  wave.  And  she 
looked,  as  she  stood  before  me,  like  a  faultless 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         49 

feminine  incarnation  of  the  essence  of  a  bosom 
friend,  turned  into  an  instrument  of  super- 
natural seduction  by  the  infusion  of  the  intoxi- 
cation of  the  other  sex,  and  seeming  as  it  were 
to  say:  How  much  dearer  is  a  dear  friend, 
that  looks  at  thee  with  a  woman's  eyes! 

And  I  stood  for  a  single  instant,  looking, 
with  a  soul  that  struggled  to  leave  me,  as  if 
it  had  recognised  at  once,  the  moment  it 
caught  sight  of  her,  whose  claim  it  should  obey. 
And  I  made  a  step  towards  her,  stretching  out 
both  my  hands:  and  all  at  once,  I  uttered  a 
sharp  cry,  and  fell  at  her  feet  in  a  swoon. 


VIII 

And  when  I  came  back  to  myself,  I  opened 

my  eyes,  and  saw  her,  standing  close  beside 

me,  bending  over  towards  me,  and  watching 

me  with  eyes  that  were  full  of  an  expression 

that  was  half  anxiety  and  half  compassion. 

And  as  I  rose  to  my  feet,  in  confusion,  she 

said  quietly :  Nay,  it  would  be  better  for  thee 

to  sit  still,  for  a  little  while,  until  thou  art 

recovered.     Art  thou  ill,  or  what  is  the  matter 

with  thee?     And  I  looked  at  her,  making  as 

it  were  sure  of  her  being  really  there,  and  I 

said  with  emotion:   Nay,  on  the  contrary,  I 

am  very  well  indeed,  now  that  I  find  thee  still 

here,  as  I  never  hoped  to  see  thee.     For  I  was 

terribly  afraid,  lest  I  should  lose  thee  as  I  did 

before.     And  the  shock  was  like  a  blow,  for  I 

have  waited  so  long,  to  see  thee  again.     And 

she  looked   at  me    with    astonishment,    and 

she  said:   Before?     Again?     What  dost  thou 

mean  ?     When  have  we  ever  met  before  ?     And 

50 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         51 

I  said:  In  a  dream.     And  it  may  be,  even 
earlier,  in  some  former  birth.     I  cannot  tell. 
But  instantly,  I  knew  thee  again,  and  my  heart 
stopped,  unable  to  endure  the  unutterable  joy, 
and  the  choking  pain,  and  the  suddenness  of 
the   surprise:  for   it    came    upon    me   like   a 
thunderbolt,  without  warning.     And  as  I  said, 
I  was  white  with  terror,  lest  thou  shouldst 
have  taken  advantage  of  my  swoon,  to  disap- 
pear, as  thou  didst  before.     For  if  I  had  not 
seen  thee,  when  I  woke  up,  I  should  have  died. 
And  she  looked  at  me  for  a  while,  with  curi- 
osity, and  as  if  meditating  over  what  I  said. 
And  then  she  sighed.     And  she  said  in  a  low 
voice,  as  if  speaking  to  herself:  This  is  my 
fault.     Alas!  I  foresaw  that  there  would  be 
danger   in    thy   coming.     And    I    exclaimed: 
Danger!     Be  under  no  concern.     Thou  hast 
nothing  at  all  to  fear  from  me,  or  indeed  from 
anything  whatever,  as  long  as  I  am  near  thee. 
Then  she  said :  Nay,  but  thou  dost  not  under- 
stand.    It  is  not  for  myself  that  I  was  afraid, 
but  for  thee.     And  as  I  looked  at  her,  as  if  to 
ask  her  what  she  meant,  she  said  again:  It  is 
I  who  am  the  danger.     For  I  know  by  experi- 
ence that  I  always  act  on  thy  sex  like  a  spell: 


52      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

only  in  thy  case,  the  spell  was  very  strong: 
so  strong,  as  almost  to  destroy  thee.  And  yet, 
it  is  not  my  fault,  after  all.  Blame  me  not, 
but  rather  blame  the  Creator  who  made  me 
as  I  am.  And  I  exclaimed:  Blame  him!  nay, 
rather  worship  and  adore  him,  for  the  wonder 
of  his  work:  as  thou  art  very  certainly  his 
masterpiece.  What!  wouldst  thou  have  me 
blame  him,  for  producing  a  thing  that  I  could 
worship,  instead  of  himself?  And  she  shook 
her  head  slowly  as  I  spoke,  and  she  said: 
Thou  seest:  it  is  exactly  as  I  said.  I  am  a 
poison  to  thee.  And  I  looked  at  her,  trem- 
bling with  sheer  ecstasy  to  look  at  her  and 
listen  to  her:  and  suddenly  I  burst  out  laugh- 
ing, with  my  eyes  full  of  tears.  And  I  said: 
Poison!  Thou!  Ah!  let  me  only  drink  such 
poison  to  its  dregs!  I  ask  for  nothing  more. 
And  she  said:  Come!  let  us  sit  on  the  step, 
and  thou  wilt  recover.  And  when  we  were 
seated,  she  said,  after  a  while:  Forget  me,  if 
thou  canst,  for  a  moment,  and  listen,  and  I 
will  tell  thee  of  the  difficulty  which  led  me  to 
summon  thee  to  my  assistance. 

And  then  she  began  to  speak  to  me  of  the 
musical  intervals,  while  I  sat  gazing  at  her, 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         53 

drunk  with  admiration,  and  growing  hot  and 
cold  by  turns,  never  so  much  as  hearing  a 
single  word  she  said,  but  listening  only  to  the 
unutterable  sweetness  of  the  voice  that  spoke, 
that  sounded  in  my  ears  like  the  noise  of  a 
waterfall  coming  from  a  distance  to  the  ear 
of  one  that  lies  dying  of  thirst.  And  all  at 
once,  I  broke  in  abruptly,  without  any  refer- 
ence whatever  to  her  words:  and  I  said:  O 
Tarawali,  they  named  thee  well  who  chose 
thy  name:  for  thou  art  indeed  like  the  star 
on  thy  brow.  And  when  I  think  how  nearly 
I  never  came  to  thee  at  all,  I  shudder  for  sheer 
terror,  to  think  I  all  but  missed  my  oppor- 
tunity, and  lost  thee  for  ever.  And  I  owe 
thee  an  apology,  for  a  crime,  done  to  thy 
divinity  in  ignorance.  Aye!  Chaturika  was 
right,  when  she  told  me  I  was  worthy  of  death, 
for  confounding  thee  with  her. 

And  she  said,  with  a  sigh:  Thou  art  not 
listening  to  what  I  say.  And  then  she  smiled, 
with  a  little  smile  that  shook  my  heart  for 
delight,  and  she  said:  Aye!  Chaturika  told 
me  of  thy  error.  But  trust  her  not,  when 
she  speaks  of  me,  for  she  is  a  flatterer.  And 
yet,  thy  crime  was  venial,  and  one  easily  for- 


54      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

given:  for  she  is  very  pretty,  as  I  am  not. 
But  we  are  wandering  from  the  point,  and 
wasting  time,  and  talking  nonsense.  Forget 
us  both,  and  listen  with  attention,  and  I  will 
begin  all  over  again.  And  I  swept  away  her 
beginning  with  a  wave  of  my  hand,  and  I  ex- 
claimed: It  is  useless,  for  I  can  listen  at  pre- 
sent to  absolutely  nothing.  There  is  no  room 
in  my  soul  for  anything  but  thee.  Speak  to 
me  of  thyself,  and  I  will  listen  never  moving 
for  the  remainder  of  my  life.  And  once  again 
she  sighed,  lifting  her  hands,  and  letting  them 
fall  again,  as  if  in  despair.  And  she  said 
gently:  If  thou  absolutely  wilt  not  attend, 
where  was  the  use  of  thy  coming  at  all?  And 
I  said:  If  thou  wilt  only  send  for  me  every 
day,  at  sunset,  for  a  year,  it  may  be  that  I 
shall  at  last  be  able  to  forget  thee  sufficiently 
for  a  very  little  while,  to  attend  to  something 
else. 

And  suddenly  she  laughed,  with  laughter 
that  exactly  resembled  the  laughter  of  a  child, 
and  she  said:  Thou  art  very  crafty,  indeed, 
but  thy  cunning  plan  would  take  a  long  time, 
with  but  little  result.  And  even  then,  I  am 
not  sure  I  could  rely  on  thy  forgetting.     And 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         55 

I  exclaimed,  with  emphasis:  Thou  art  abso- 
lutely right,  for  the  moment  of  oblivion  would 
never  come  at  all.  But  O  thou  miracle  of  a 
queen,  tell  me  at  least  one  thing  about  thyself. 
And  she  said:  What?  And  I  said:  How  can 
the  King  thy  husband  be  so  utterly  bereft  of 
his  reason  as  to  let  any  other  man  see  his  star? 
Or  is  he,  in  very  truth,  actually  blind?  For 
I  could  understand  it,  if  he  really  cannot  see. 

And  she  looked  at  me  with  surprise:  and 
she  said  slowly :  Dost  thou  actually  not  know, 
what  everybody  knows?  And  I  said:  I  know 
nothing  that  everybody  knows,  being  as  I  am 
a  stranger.  But  this  I  know,  very  well,  that 
if  thou  wert  my  pearl,  I  would  take  very  good 
care  to  hide  thee.  For  even  an  honest  man 
might  well  turn  robber,  tempted  by  the  sight 
of  such  an  ocean  pearl.  And  she  said,  very 
quietly:  It  needs  no  thief  to  steal  the  pearl, 
if  indeed  it  be  a  pearl,  which  its  owner  cast 
away  long  ago  as  a  thing  of  no  value,  for 
anyone  to  pick  up  as  he  passes  by. 

And  I  stared  at  her  in  stupefaction,  and 
I  struck  my  1  Kinds  together  and  exclaimed: 
Art  thou  mad,  or  am  I  dreaming?  And  she 
said  gently:  It  is  true.     And  anybody  but  a 


56      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

stranger  like  thyself  would  have  known  it, 
without  needing  to  be  told.  And  she  dropped 
her  eyes,  and  sat  for  a  while,  fingering  the 
string  of  her  lute,  as  if  on  purpose  to  make 
herself  into  a  picture  for  my  intoxicated  gaze : 
and  suddenly  she  said:  Why  should  I  make 
a  secret  of  a  thing  that  another  will  tell  thee, 
if  I  do  not,  adding  to  the  truth  slanders  that 
are  false?  It  is  better  for  thee,  and  for  me, 
to  learn  from  my  own  mouth  what  it  is  impos- 
sible to  hide.  There  is  a  relation  of  the  King, 
whose  name  is  Narasinha.  And  one  day  he 
saw  me  by  accident,  on  the  roof  of  the  palace, 
and  instantly  he  lost  his  reason,  as  all  the  men 
who  see  me  always  do.  And  not  long  after, 
the  King  was  set  upon  by  numbers  in  a  battle, 
and  within  a  very  little  of  being  slain;  and 
Narasinha  saved  his  life,  very  nearly  losing 
his  own.  And  the  King  said,  when  all  was 
over:  Now,  then,  O  Narasinha,  ask  me  for 
anything  I  have,  no  matter  what:  it  is  thine. 
And  Narasinha  saw  his  opportunity.  And 
he  shut  his  eyes,  like  one  that  leaps  from  a 
precipice  to  life  or  death.  And  he  said:  Give 
me  thy  Queen,  Tarawali:  or  else,  slay  me, 
here  and  now,  with  this  very  sword  that  saved 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         57 

thy  life.  And  then,  to  his  amazement,  as  he 
stood  with  his  head  bowed,  expecting  death, 
the  King  burst  out  laughing.  And  he  said: 
Is  that  all?  Aha!  Narasinha,  we  were  both 
frightened,  thou  and  I:  thou,  of  asking,  and 
I,  of  what  thou  mightest  ask.  Didst  thou 
not  think,  I  should  slay  thee,  for  thinking  of 
her  even  in  a  dream?  But  my  life  were  worth 
little,  if  I  haggled  with  its  saviour  over  its 
price.  And  Tarawali  is  thine,  to  do  with  as 
thou  wilt.  For  I  have  only  one  life,  whereas 
queens  can  be  found  in  all  directions,  and 
I  can  very  easily  replace  her,  whenever  I 
choose.  Only  she  must  not  leave  the  palace, 
for  after  all,  she  is  my  Queen,  and  so  she  must 
remain,  for  everyone  but  me  and  thee.  And 
so  he  gave  me  clean  away  to  Narasinha,  in 
secret,  but  it  is  a  secret  that  everybody  knows, 
and  tells  in  secret  to  everybody  else.  And  I 
have  gained  by  the  exchange.  For  Narasinha 
risked  his  life,  twice,  to  win  me,  and  the  King 
would  never  have  risked  so  much  as  his  little 
finger  to  save  the  life  of  a  hundred  queens,  and 
gave  me  away,  like  a  straw,  for  the  mere  ask- 
ing, not  even  stopping  '•>  consider,  that  in  the 
straw  he  gave  away  his  own  honour  lay  hid- 


58      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

den,  which  he  gave  away  with  me.  And  I 
could  have  forgiven  him  for  giving  me. away, 
but  who  could  forgive  the  King  who  valued 
his  own  honour  less  than  his  own  life?  And 
to  the  King  I  was  never  more  than  a  necessary 
ornament,  a  thing  like  a  sceptre  and  a  throne, 
and  a  mere  piece  of  royal  furniture:  whereas 
I  am  more  than  the  life  of  Narasinha,  and 
the  apple  of  his  eye. 


IX 


And  as  she  spoke,  I  listened,  not  believing 
my  own  ears,  and  saying  to  myself:  Is  it  all 
real,  or  can  it  be  that  I  am  only  dreaming 
after  all?  And  which  is  the  greater  wonder, 
this  miserable  King,  who,  leaving  honour  out 
of  the  account,  is  so  utterly  besotted  as  to 
give  away  a  thing  like  her  to  the  first  man  who 
asks  for  her,  or  Tarawali  herself,  telling  the 
whole  story  of  her  own  depreciation  with 
such  contemptuous  and  yet  delicious  candour 
to  such  a  one  as  me?  Aye!  well  indeed  she 
might  despise  a  husband  so  unutterably  de- 
spicable ;  and  yet  his  oblivion  of  his  own  honour 
is  easier  by  far  to  understand  than  his  blind- 
ness to  the  value  of  the  thing  he  gave  away. 
And  would  she  tell  me  anything  at  all,  unless 
she  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  was 
worthy  of  her  confidence?  And  who  knows? 
For  why  should  she  consent  to  be  given  like 
a  horse  to  Narasinha^     Why  might  she  not 

5<> 


60      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

prefer  to  give  herself,  and  choose  for  herself  the 
man  who  was  to  be  her  owner?  And  what  if 
I  could  persuade  her  to  let  me  be  the  man? 
And  at  the  very  thought,  my  head  began  to 
swim  in  the  delirium  of  hope  and  almost  un- 
imaginable anticipation.  And  I  said:  Dear 
Tarawali,  is  it  the  fault  of  the  ocean  gem,  if 
its  boorish  owner  flings  it  away,  taking  it  for 
a  bit  of  common  glass,  and  ignoring  its  ines- 
timable worth?  There  are  other  and  better 
judges,  who  would  give  their  very  lives,  only 
to  be  allowed  to  pick  it  up. 

And  she  looked  at  me  with  a  smile,  and  she 
leaned  towards  me,  and  she  said,  with  gentle 
mischief  in  her  eyes :  Shall  I  tell  thee  thy  very 
thoughts,  and  it  may  be,  tumble  down  for 
thee  the  unsubstantial  castles  thou  art  even 
already  building  in  the  air?  Thou  art  mar- 
velling at  the  King,  for  giving  me  so  carelessly 
away:  and  thou  art  wondering,  why  I  am 
telling  thee  about  it :  and  last  of  all,  it  may  be, 
thou  art  counting  on  my  independence.  Is 
it  not  so?  And  I  hung  my  head  in  silence, 
ashamed  at  being  so  accurately  detected  by 
the  subtle  penetration  of  this  extraordinary 
Queen.     And  presently  she  said,  as  if  to  con- 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         61 

sole  me  for  my  confusion,  with  unutterable 
sweetness  in  her  voice:  Come,  do  not  allow 
delusive  imagination  to  run  away  with  thee, 
but  curb  him,  and  rein  him  up,  and  stop  him, 
and  be  wise.  For  I  belong,  body  and  soul, 
to  Narasinha.  And  yet,  for  all  that,  I  am  my 
own  mistress,  and  act  exactly  as  I  choose. 
And  I  see  anyone  I  please,  and  at  my  own 
time,  and  go,  like  a  wild  elephant,  wherever 
inclination  leads  me.  And  music  is  my  pas- 
sion, and  I  heard  of  thee,  and  sent  for  thee, 
and  now  that  I  have  seen  thee,  I  like  thee. 
And  now,  shall  we  be  friends? 

And  as  she  ended,  she  put  out  towards 
me  both  her  hands,  leaning  towards  me,  and 
looking  at  me  with  a  smile,  and  eyes  full  of 
an  invitation  so  irresistibly  caressing  that 
it  swept  away  my  self-control,  consuming  it 
like  a  blade  of  grass  in  a  forest  fire.  And  I 
started  to  my  feet,  and  instantly  she  rose 
herself.  And  I  seized  her  right  hand  in  my 
own,  with  a  grip  that  made  it  an  unwill- 
ing prisoner  beyond  all  hope  of  escape.  And 
I   exclaimed    with   agitation:  Friends!  only 

friends!  Alas!  ()  Tarawali,  hast  thou  given 
thyself,    body    and    soul,    so    absolutely    to 


62      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

Narasinha,  as  not  to  have  left  even  the  very 
smallest  atom  over,  for  me,  now  that  I  have 
discovered  thee  at  last?  O  I  have  dreamed  of 
thee,  and  thy  sweetness,  and  thy  eyes,  so  long, 
so  long. 

And  as  I  gazed  at  her,  forgetting  everything 
in  the  world,  but  my  incontrollable  thirst  for 
herself,  she  sighed,  and  she  said  with  compas- 
sion: Poor  boy!  I  did  ill,  to  summon  thee  at 
all.  Thou  art  only  drinking  poison,  and  yet 
I  know  not  any  antidote,  save  only  to  bid 
thee  go  away. 

And  I  stood,  bereft  of  my  senses,  and  with- 
out knowing  what  I  did,  pulling  her  by  the 
hand,  that  lay  reluctantly  in  mine,  endeavour- 
ing to  free  itself  in  vain.  And  half  resisting, 
half  consenting,  against  her  own  will,  to  be 
pulled,  she  came  slowly  towards  me,  leaning 
back,  and  looking  at  me  with  eyes  that  seemed 
to  implore  me  to  release  her,  and  yet,  unable 
to  be  harsh,  no  matter  what  I  did.  And 
at  last,  she  reached  me,  and  she  closed  her 
eyes,  as  I  kissed  her,  with  a  shudder  of  de- 
light that  was  almost  terror,  on  the  lips. 
And  then  instantly  I  let  her  go,  and  stood 
aghast  at  what  I  had  done.     And  I  stam- 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         63 

mered:  Forgive!  for  I  did  not  know  what  I 
was  doing. 

And  she  shook  her  head,  and  she  said  very 
gently:  Nay,  it  is  I  myself  who  am  to  blame: 
since  I  might  have  known  that  this  would  be 
the  inevitable  end.  But  now,  good-bye!  for 
thou  hast  been  here  already  far  too  long.  And 
then,  she  hesitated  for  an  instant,  looking  at 
me  as  if  with  pity ;  and  she  said  with  a  smile : 
Thou  must  absolutely  go,  and  yet  my  heart  is 
sorry  for  thee,  for  I  understand  what  going 
means,  to  thee.  Come,  if  thou  wilt,  I  will 
allow  thee  to  bid  me  good-bye. 

And  as  she  held  out  her  arms,  looking  at 
me  with  a  smile,  my  reason  fled.  And  I 
caught  her  anyhow,  with  one  arm  round  her 
waist,  and  the  other  round  her  neck,  turning 
round  unawares,  so  that  suddenly  I  found  her 
lying  in  my  arms,  gazing  up  into  my  eyes, 
with  lips  that  trembled  as  they  smiled.  And 
I  drew  a  deep  sigh,  and  then  I  kissed  her  in  a 
frenzy  with  a  kiss  that  seemed  as  if  it  would 
never  end. 

And  then,  I  almost  threw  her  from  me,  with 
a  cry.  And  I  turned  and  fled  away,  without 
looking  back,  and  found,  I  know  not  how,  the 


64      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

door,  and  knocked,  and  it  was  opened ;  and  I 
got,  somehow  or  other,  into  the  street.  And 
I  went  home  like  one  walking  in  a  dream,  with 
feet  that  found  their  way  of  their  own  accord. 


And  I  threw  myself  on  my  bed,  and  lay, 
all  night  long,  asleep  or  awake,  I  know  not 
which,  but  gazing  with  eyes  that  as  it  were 
shone  into  the  dark,  and  a  heart  burning  with 
the  fire  of  joy,  and  a  soul  lost  in  the  ecstasy  of 
recollection,  saying  to  myself  without  ceasing: 
I  have  found  her,  I  have  found  her:  and  the 
reality  is  sweeter  far  even  than  the  dream. 
And  morning  arrived,  as  it  seemed,  even  be- 
fore night  had  begun,  for  time  was  lost  alto- 
gether in  the  abyss  of  reminiscence.     And  I 
rose  up,  and  stood  still,  with  my  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  ground,  going  over  every  detail,  and 
striving  to  recall  every  atom  of  the  meeting 
of  the  day  before.     And  I  said  to  myself: 
Ha!  and  fool  that  I  was,  I  very  nearly  missed 
her,  by   refusing  to  go  at  all.     And   unless 
that  lucky   elephant   had   chanced    to  come 
along,  I  was  absolutely  lost.     And  yet,  how 
could  I  possibly  have  guessed  that  Tarawali 
«  05 


66      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

would  turn  out  to  be  the  lady  of  my  dream? 
0  joy,  that  she  caught  me  just  before  I  went 
away!  0  the  star  in  her  hair,  and  the  sound 
of  her  voice,  and  O  the  unendurable  torture 
of  being  absent  for  an  instant  from  the  possi- 
bility of  the  nectar  of  her  kiss ! 

And  then,  all  at  once,  I  started,  for  a  thought 
ran  of  its  own  accord  like  a  dagger  straight 
into  my  heart.  And  I  exclaimed:  Alas!  I 
had  forgotten.  How  in  the  world  am  I  ever 
to  see  her  again?  And  she  said:  Good-bye! 
Can  it  be  that  she  intended  I  was  never  to 
return?  Alas!  beyond  a  doubt,  good-bye  was 
good-bye,  and  for  all  her  extraordinary  kind- 
ness, she  was  offended  by  my  overweening 
presumption,  and  sent  me  away,  and  will  not 
send  for  me  again.  Aye!  all  is  over:  for  like 
Durga, x  she  is  absolutely  inaccessible,  unless 
she  chooses  to  reveal  herself  to  her  miserable 
devotee  of  her  own  accord.  Aye  indeed!  my 
arrogance  has  ruined  me  in  her  estimation, 
and  I  cannot  even  hope  ever  to  see  her  any 
more.     Fool  that  I  was,  and  mad,  to  run  away 


1  Durga,  the  inaccessible  one,  is  one  of  Parwati's  innumerable 
names.  It  has  reference  to  a  mountain  steep,  with  accessory 
meanings,  moral  and  theological. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         67 

like  a  deer,  never  so  much  as  dreaming  of 
providing  for  my  return!  Now  indeed,  I 
have  dropped  myself  into  a  well  without  a 
rope,  and  she  is  as  utterly  beyond  my  reach, 
as  if  indeed  she  were  a  star. 

And  my  knees  shook,  and  I  sank  down,  with 
my  head  buried  in  my  hands,  ready  to  cry, 
for  sheer  anguish,  at  the  thought  of  my  inabil- 
ity to  get  at  her,  and  the  horror  of  the  desola- 
tion that  lay  before  me,  without  her.  And 
so  as  I  remained,  lying  as  it  were  at  the  very 
bottom  of  the  abyss  of  despair,  there  came  a 
knock  at  the  door.  And  that  knock  fell  on 
my  ear  like  a  ray  of  hope  falling  on  a  prisoner 
in  a  dark  dungeon.  And  I  rose  up,  with  my 
reason  tottering  on  its  balance,  ready  to  desert 
me  if  my  anticipation  was  disappointed.  And 
I  ran  to  the  door,  and  tore  it  open,  and  lo! 
there  stood  Chaturika  again,  exactly  as  she 
did  before. 

And  almost  mad  with  rapture,  I  threw  my- 
self upon  her,  and  seized  her  in  my  arms,  and 
dragged  her  in,  and  shut  the  door.  And  she 
exclaimed,  with  laughter:  What!  wilt  thou 
never  learn  to  know  Chaturika  from  Tarawali? 
And  she  stood,  looking  at  me,  with  laughter 


68      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

in  her  mocking  eyes,  and  all  at  once  she  began 
to  laugh,  with  long,  low  laughter,  that  re- 
sembled the  ripple  of  a  stream,  and  sounded 
in  my  ears  like  music  falling  straight  from 
heaven.  And  she  said:  Ah!  ah!  So  this  is 
the  man  that  would  not  go !  Ah!  ah!  Nectar 
when  she  turns  towards  thee:  poison  when 
she  turns  away.  Ah!  ah!  Well  I  understand 
why  thou  art  so  anxious  to  embrace  me,  and 
I  forgive  thee  from  my  heart:  for  I  have 
brought  thee  a  present  from  the  Queen.  And 
now,  what  wilt  thou  give  me  for  it? 

And  I  said:  Alas!  O  Chaturika,  I  want  no 
present  from  the  Queen.  I  want  one  thing 
only,  to  see  her  again. 

And  Chaturika  said :  Then  my  present  will 
be  exactly  to  thy  taste:  for  it  is  only  a  single 
word.  And  canst  thou  guess  what  it  is? 
And  she  waited,  as  if  on  purpose  to  keep  me 
in  suspense,  and  torture  my  impatience.  And 
then  at  last,  she  said:  Sunset!  What!  didst 
thou  fear  I  was  going  to  say  Farewell? 

And  as  she  laughed  again,  I  caught  her  by 
the  hand,  in  exultation,  and  her  laughter  sud- 
denly changed  into  a  shriek.  And  she  said, 
with  more  laughter:  Nay,   thou   hast  come 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         69 

within  a  little  of  breaking  my  hand  in  pieces, 
gripping  it  like  one  that  catches  at  a  twig,  to 
save  himself  from  drowning.  What!  wouldst 
thou  requite  a  benefit,  by  injuring  thy  bene- 
factor? Or  hast  thou  again  mistaken  one 
hand  for  another?  And  again  she  began  to 
laugh,  looking  at  me  slily,  with  her  provoking 
pretty  eyes:  and  she  said:  No  matter,  I  for- 
give thee,  for  as  I  said,  I  understand.     But 

0  Shatrunjaya  the  lute-player,  what  is  it 
that  has  made  thee  change  thy  mind,  since 
yesterday?  Or  am  I  to  go  back  and  tell  the 
Queen,  once  more,  that  her  music-master  will 
not  come? 

And  she  turned,  laughing  still,  to  go  away. 
But  I  sprang  forward,  and  caught  her  in  my 
arms  again,  and  said:  Nay,  dear  Chaturika, 
do  not  go.  Stay  just  a  little  longer,  for  art 
thou  not  her  shadow? 

And  yet  once  more  she  began  to  laugh, 
pushing  me  away,  as  she  exclaimed:  It  is  ut- 
terly impossible,  O  Shatrunjaya,  for  I  have 
many  things  to  do,  and  very  little  time.     And 

1  am  not  sure  that  I  care  to  be  embraced, 
merely  because  I  am  the  shadow  of  another. 
Thou  must  contrive  how  thou  canst,  without 


?o      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

me,  to  restrain  thy  insatiable  appetite  of 
embracing  other  people,  till  sunset.  Patience! 
thou  hast  not  long  to  wait. 

And  she  went  out  and  shut  the  door,  and 
suddenly,  just  as  it  was  closing,  she  opened  it 
again,  and  put  in  her  head.  And  she  said: 
Shall  I  tell  her  of  thy  anxiety  to  embrace  me, 
or  leave  it  to  thee?  Dear  Chaturika!  Ah! 
ah!  Nectar  when  she  turns  towards  thee: 
poison  when  she  turns  away ! 

And  then  she  shut  the  door  and  disappeared. 


XI 


And  as  the  door  shut  behind  her,  she  left 
the  whole  room  filled  to  the  very  brim  with 
the  red  glow  of  triumphant  love's  emotion, 
and  the  atmosphere  of  the  ecstasy  of  happi- 
ness ;  and  the  laughter,  of  which  she  seemed  to 
be  the  incarnation,  hung,  so  to  say,  in  every 
corner  of  the  room.  And  my  heart  sang  and 
my  blood  bubbled  with  the  wave  of  the  ocean 
of  anticipation  that  surged  and  swelled  within 
me,  so  that  I  was  utterly  unable  to  sit  still, 
for  sheer  joy;  and  my  soul  began  as  it  were 
to  dance  in  such  excitement,  that  I  could 
hardly  refrain  from  shouting,  resembling  one 
intoxicated  by  the  abruptness  of  a  sudden 
change  from  certain  death  to  the  very  apex 
of  life's  sweetness.  And  I  said  to  myself: 
Sunset!  So,  then,  beyond  a  doubt,  she  has 
eitlu-r  forgiven  me,  or  is  willing  to  forgive. 
And  who  knows?  For  if  she  has  forgiven 
once,  she  may  forgive  again:  when  again,  it 

7' 


72      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

may  be,  she  will  allow  me  to  say  good-bye. 
And  at  the  thought,  my  heart  began  to  burn 
with  dull  fire,  hurting  me  so  that  I  could 
hardly  breathe:  and  yet  strange!  the  pain 
was  divided  only  by  a  hair  from  a  sweetness 
so  intense  that  I  laughed  aloud,  without  know- 
ing why,  like  one  hovering  on  the  very  verge 
of  being  mad.  And  so  I  remained,  drowned 
in  the  ocean  of  the  torture  and  the  nectar  of 
love-longing,  every  now  and  then  waking  as 
from  a  day-dream  to  wonder  at  the  sun,  who 
seemed  to  dawdle  on  his  way,  as  if  on  purpose 
to  separate  my  soul  from  my  body  with  im- 
patience. But  at  last,  after  all,  day  began 
slowly  to  come  to  an  end,  and  I  set  out  for 
the  palace,  with  feet  that  could  hardly  be 
restrained  from  running  as  fast  as  they  could 
go. 

And  at  the  gate  the  very  same  pratihdri  was 
waiting,  and  she  led  me  away,  exactly  as 
before,  to  the  door,  and  opened  it,  and  I  went 
in.  And  I  stood,  listening  to  its  sound  as 
it  shut  behind  me,  hardly  able  to  believe  that 
it  was  not  a  dream,  as  I  found  myself  once 
more  in  the  garden  that  contained  the  Queen. 
And  I  stopped  for  a  while,  for  my  heart  was 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         73 

beating  so  furiously  that  I  was  afraid  it  would 
break.  And  I  said  to  myself,  with  a  sigh  of 
ineffable  relief:  Ah!  now,  then,  I  am  actually 
here,  once  more.  And  O  now,  very  soon, 
comes  the  agonising  rapture  of  seeing  her 
again.  And  I  wonder  where  she  is,  and  how 
I  shall  find  her  to-night.  And  now  I  must 
begin  to  hunt  for  a  very  swreet  quarry.  And 
suddenly  I  started  almost  running,  paying 
absolutely  no  attention  to  the  trees  at  all, 
with  eyes  that  were  blind  for  everything  in 
the  world,  except  one. 

And  then,  all  at  once,  I  stopped  short:  for 
I  looked  and  saw  her,  a  little  way  off,  under  a 
great  nyagrodha  tree,  sitting  crossways  in  a 
low  swing  ■  that  hung  down  from  a  long  bough, 
holding  one  of  its  ropes  in  her  left  hand  that 
was  stretched  as  high  as  it  could  go,  and  lean- 
ing back  against  the  other  with  her  head 
cushioned  in  her  bent  right  arm.  And  she  had 
her  left  foot  tucked  beneath  her,  so  that  her 
left  knee  stood  up  in  the  swing,  while  her 
right  leg  was  stretched  out  below,  so  that  its 

1  There  arc  constant  reference*  in  Hindoo  poetry  to  swinging, 

which  is  a  national  pastime  in  India,  with  a  special  festival  in 
its  honour. 


74      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

foot  just  reached  the  ground,  to  allow  her  to 
swing  very  gently,  whenever  her  toes  touched 
the  earth.  And  the  lovely  line  of  her  great 
right  hip  seemed  to  cry  for  admiration,  run- 
ning down  in  a  single  unbroken  curve  from 
her  waist  into  the  ground,  balanced  as  it  were 
above  by  the  slender  beauty  of  her  left  arm 
rising  from  the  mound  of  her  left  breast.  And 
the  rising  moon  which  she  was  watching 
touched  her  with  a  faint  lustre,  lighting  up 
like  a  lamp  the  great  gem  in  her  hair,  and 
making  the  champak  blossom  that  floated  in 
the  hollow  of  her  bosom's  wave  glimmer  like 
the  foam  on  a  midnight  sea.  And  after  a 
while,  I  began  to  steal  towards  her  on  tiptoe, 
fearing  to  disturb  her,  lest  the  lovely  picture 
should  be  spoiled,  yet  yearning  to  be  with  her 
with  the  whole  strength  of  my  soul.  But  all 
at  once,  she  heard  me  coming,  and  looked 
round  and  saw  me.  And  instantly  she  left 
her  swing,  and  came  towards  me,  walking 
quickly  with  undulating  steps,  as  upright  as  a 
pillar  of  her  own  tree.  And  I  stood  still,  to 
watch  her  coming,  and  adore  it,  and  delay  it, 
but  she  reached  me  in  a  moment,  and  she 
stopped,  and  said  with  a  smile :  I  am  very  glad 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         75 

to  see  thee.  I  sent  thee,  by  the  mouth  of 
Chaturika,  a  time,  and  yet  I  hardly  dared  to 
hope  for  thy  coming:  since  doubtless  thou 
hast  a  better  use  for  thy  hours  than  to  waste 
them  upon  me. 

And  I  stared  at  her,  in  utter  stupefaction: 
and  then,  all  at  once  I  began  to  laugh.  And 
I  exclaimed:  Waste!  I  do  not  understand. 
What  dost  thou  mean?  Or  what  was  thy 
object  in  bidding  me  to  come  to  thee  at  sun- 
set? Surely  not  merely  to  talk  to  me  of 
music?  And  she  looked  at  me  gently,  with 
surprise.  And  she  said:  Of  course.  What 
other  object  could  I  have?  And  I  looked  at 
her  in  silence,  saying  to  myself:  Can  it  really 
be  possible  that  she  means  exactly  what  she 
says,  and  that  this  was  the  only  significance 
of  the  word  she  sent  to  me?  And  suddenly 
I  leaned  towards  her,  with  hunger  in  my  eyes. 
And  I  said:  Then  indeed,  I  was  mistaken. 
It  was  not  so,  that  I  interpreted  thy  summons. 
Alas!  O  Tarawali,  the  only  music  that  I  came 
for  was  the  music  of  thy  incomparable  voice,  and 
I  thought  it  was  thy  own  deliberate  intention 
to  send  for  me  simply  that  I  might  listen  to  it 
again,  as  I  gazed  on  its  owner  with  adoration. 


76      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

And  she  looked  at  me  reproachfully,  and 
she  said:  Again!  Alas!  I  imagined  that  thou 
wouldst  ere  now  have  recovered  from  thy 
shock  of  yesterday,  and  be  able  now  to  help 
me;  and  yet,  here  is  thy  delusion  returning, 
as  it  seems,  even  worse  than  before.  See 
now,  forget  altogether  that  I  am  a  woman,  and 
let  us  talk  of  music,  like  two  friends.  And  I 
laughed  in  derision,  and  I  exclaimed:  Forget 
that  thou  art  a  woman!  Ask  me  rather  to 
forget  I  am  a  man.  Art  thou  blind,  or  hast 
thou  never  even  looked  into  a  mirror?  Dost 
thou  imagine  me  less  than  a  man,  bidding  me 
forget  that  she  is  a  woman  who  stands  before 
me,  as  thou  dost,  smiling,  and  bewildering 
my  soul  with  her  maddening  loveliness,  and 
the  absolute  perfection  of  her  body  and  her 
soul,  showing  the  hungry  man  food,  and  for- 
bidding him  to  eat,  and  the  thirsty  man  water, 
and  requiring  him  to  think  of  it  as  something 
it  is  not?  Or  art  thou  all  the  time  only  play- 
ing, having  no  heart  in  thy  body,  or  a  stone 
for  a  heart?  Didst  thou  summon  me  only 
to  torture  and  torment  me?  Dost  thou  not 
know,  canst  thou  not  see,  the  agony  of  my 
suffering,  standing  close  enough  to  seize  thee 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         77 

in  my  arms,  and  yet  kept  at  a  distance,  to  listen 
to  what  I  cannot  even  understand?  I  tell 
thee,  I  am  drunk  with  thy  beauty,  and  mad 
with  intolerable  desire  for  the  incomprehensible 
fascination  of  thy  charm,  and  dost  thou  dream 
of  quenching  my  fire  by  talking  about  friends? 
I  want  no  friendship  from  thee.  I  will  be 
more  than  a  friend  to  thee,  or  less:  aye!  I 
would  give  all  the  friendship  in  the  three 
worlds  for  a  single  drop  of  nectar,  mixed  01 
thy  body  and  thy  soul. 

And  as  I  spoke,  she  listened,  putting  up 
every  now  and  then  her  hand,  as  if  to  stop  me: 
and  when  I  ended,  she  stood,  looking  at  me 
in  perplexity,  as  if  utterly  unable  to  decide 
what  to  do.  And  at  last,  I  said:  Why  dost 
thou  say  nothing?  And  she  said,  simply:  I 
do  not  know  what  to  say.  And  I  laughed 
aloud,  lost  in  admiration  of  the  extraordinary 
simplicity  of  her  incomparable  reply.  And 
I  exclaimed:  O  thou  wonderful  woman,  how 
can  I  find  words  to  express  what  I  feel  for 
thee?  And  she  said,  as  if  with  despair:  I 
counted  on  thy  recovery.  And  I  said:  Count 
not  on  my  recovery,  lor  I  never  shall  recover. 
And  she  said,  with  a  smile:  Then,  as  it  seems, 


78      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

I  shall  never  have  my  music  lesson.  And 
perhaps  it  would  be  better,  if  it  ended  here, 
without  ever  having  begun.  And  in  any  case, 
to-night,  thy  visit  must  of  necessity  be  a  very 
short  one,  since  I  have  other  business,  unex- 
pectedly arisen,  to  do.  And  so,  shall  we  say 
good-night,  without  any  more  delay? 

And  I  said  slowly:  If  I  must  go,  I  must: 
for  I  will  obey  thee,  order  what  thou  wilt. 
And  yet,  wilt  thou  not  allow  me  at  least  to 
bid  thee  good-bye,  as  thou  didst  last  night? 

And  she  looked  at  me,  as  I  leaned  towards 
her,  as  if  with  reproach,  and  she  stood  for  a 
moment,  hesitating,  and  as  it  were,  balanced 
in  the  swing  of  her  own  beautiful  irresolution. 
And  then,  after  a  while,  she  sighed,  and  put 
out  her  hand,  as  if  with  resignation.  And  I 
drew  her  to  me  with  a  clutch,  and  caught  her 
in  my  arms,  showering  on  her  lips  and  her 
eyes  and  her  hair  kisses  that  resembled  a  rain 
of  fire:  while  all  the  time  she  offered  abso- 
lutely no  resistance,  allowing  me  to  do  with 
her  exactly  as  I  pleased.  And  when  at  last  I 
stopped  to  breathe,  looking  at  her  with  eyes 
dim  with  emotion,  she  said,  very  gently,  with 
a  smile,  lying  just  as  she  was,  fettered  in  my 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         79 

arms:  Hast  thou  yet  bid  me  good-bye,  to 
thy  satisfaction?  And  I  said  in  a  low  voice: 
Nay,  not  at  all.  For  thou  hast  not  yet  kissed 
me  in  return,  even  once.  And  as  if  out  of 
compassion,  she  did  as  she  was  told:  kissing 
me  gently,  over  and  over  again,  for  I  would 
not  let  her  stop,  with  kisses  that  resembled 
snowflakes  that  burned  as  they  fell. 

And  at  last,  I  let  her  go.  And  holding  her 
two  hands,  I  gazed  at  her  for  a  while  in  adora- 
tion, while  she  looked  at  me  as  if  patiently 
waiting  to  be  released,  with  a  little  smile. 
And  I  said:  Now  then  I  will  obey  thee,  and 
go:  for  thou  hast  given  me  something  that 
will  keep  me  alive.  And  yet  thou  art  cheating 
me  by  sending  me  away  before  the  time,  and 
thou  owest  me  the  rest.  Promise  me,  that 
thou  wilt  summon  me  to-morrow,  or  I  cannot 
go  away,  even  if  I  try.  For  if  I  go,  not  know- 
ing when  I  shall  see  thee  again,  I  will  slay 
myself  on  thy  palace  steps. 

And  she  drew  away  her  hands,  very  gently, 
and  turned  away,  and  stood  looking  down 
upon  the  ground,  reflecting.  And  I  watched 
her,  as  I  waited,  with  anxiety:  for  she  seemed 
to  be  meditating,  not  so  much  of  me,  as  of 


80      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

something  unknown  to  me,  that  stood  in  the 
way  of  her  decision.  And  then  at  last,  she 
turned  towards  me,  looking  at  me,  as  it  seemed, 
with  pity.  And  she  said,  almost  sadly,  and 
yet  with  a  smile:  Poor  moth,  thou  wilt  only 
burn  away  thy  wings.  Thou  little  knowest, 
what  eyes  are  on  thee,  or  the  danger  thou  art 
running  by  overestimating  me,  and  coming 
here  at  all.  And  yet,  the  mischief  has  been 
done,  and  thou  art  greatly  to  be  pitied,  having 
fallen  under  a  spell:  and  thou  art  suffering 
from  a  fever  to  which  nothing  can  bring  any 
alleviation  but  myself.  And  it  would  be  far 
better  to  refuse  thee,  since  to  grant  thy  request 
cannot  possibly  do  thee  any  good.  And  yet 
I  cannot  find  it  in  my  heart  to  deny  thee  what 
thou  cravest,  since  I  am  myself  the  involun- 
tary cause  of  all  thy  delusion,  and  can  give 
thee  such  extraordinary  pleasure,  with  so  very 
little  trouble  to  myself.  And  so,  I  will  give 
thee  thy  desire,  and  to-morrow's  sunset  shall 
be  thine. 

And  I  uttered  a  cry  of  joy.  And  utterly 
unable  to  control  my  emotion,  I  caught  her 
once  more  in  my  arms,  kissing  her  passionately 
with  trembling  lips.    And  suddenly  I  shud- 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         81 

dered  with  delight,  for  I  felt  her  lips  kissing 
me  again.  And  my  senses  reeled,  and  I  mur- 
mured with  emotion:  Ah!  thou  lady  of  my 
dream,  art  thou  real,  or  am  I  still  only  dream- 
ing after  all?  And  she  stood  back,  putting 
me  away  with  her  hand,  and  she  said,  gently: 
I  am  real,  but  thou  seest  me  through  the  eyes 
of  thy  dream.  For  what  is  there,  after  all, 
in  me,  save  what  thou  puttest  there  thyself, 
with  the  aid  of  thy  fancy,  and  thy  passion, 
and  the  recollection  of  thy  dream? 

And  I  looked  at  her  in  silence  for  a  while, 
and  then  I  said:  Promise  me  yet  one  thing 
more.  And  she  smiled,  and  said:  Thou  art 
insatiable:  and  yet,  what  is  it?  And  I  said: 
Send  me  Chaturika  in  the  morning,  just  to 
tell  me  what  I  know  already.  For  I  shall  be 
dying  of  impatience,  and  she  is  like  a  foretaste 
of  thyself,  and  will  help  to  keep  me  alive. 

And  she  laughed,  and  she  said:  Ah!  thou 
art  very  crafty,  for  Chaturika  is  far  prettier 
than  I.  But  I  will  send  her  for  all  that,  to 
gratify  thee  to  the  full.  And  moreover,  I  am 
not  jealous.  But  now,  thou  must  absolutely 
go:  for  I  must  also.  And  she  Leaned  towards 
me,  with  eyes  that  were  full  of  an  unutterable 


82      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

caress:  and  she  said:  To-morrow,  at  sunset, 
I  will  be  thy  dream.  Only  remember,  not 
to  blame  me,  for  anything  that  may  happen 
when  awaking  comes. 

And  I  turned  and  went  away,  with  a  heart 
that  trembled  in  the  extremity  of  joy.  And 
when  I  had  gone  a  little  way,  I  looked  back, 
and  saw  her  still  standing,  looking  after  me, 
with  her  two  hands  clasped  behind  her  head, 
as  motionless  as  a  tree.  And  after  a  little 
while,  I  looked  again,  and  she  was  gone. 


XII 


And  when  I  got  home,  I  threw  myself  on 
my  bed,  and  instantly  fell  fast  asleep,  for  I 
was  worn  out  by  emotion  and  fatigue:  and 
my  slumber  resembled  the  deep  peace  of  my 
own  heart.  And  a  little  before  the  dawn,  I 
woke  up,  and  went  out,  wandering  where  my 
footsteps  led  me,  with  a  soul  lost  in  medita- 
tion on  Tarawali,  bathed  in  the  nectar  of 
reminiscence  and  anticipation,  and  yet  puzzled 
by  a  doubt  that  it  could  not  resolve.  And  I 
said  to  myself  as  I  went  along:  How  in  the 
world  can  a  queen  like  her,  who  laughs  all 
other  women  to  utter  scorn,  for  beauty  and 
understanding  and  gentleness  and  sweetness, 
and  some  unintelligible  magic  charm  that  is 
somehow  spread  all  over  her,  and  echoes  in 
the  tone  of  her  delicious  voice  that  makes 
every  fibre  of  my  heart  tremble  every  time  I 
hear  it;  how  can  such  a  queen  as  she  show 
such  extraordinary  favour  to  such  a  thing  as 

83 


84      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

me?  For  I  could  understand  it,  if  it  were  any 
other  man.  For  then  I  should  say  that  be- 
yond all  doubt,  she  actually  preferred  him  to 
all  others  in  the  world,  for  sheer  affection. 
And  yet,  as  it  is,  it  is  quite  incomprehensible. 
For,  it  might  seem,  that  she  must  be  in  love 
with  me  herself,  returning  my  affection:  and 
yet  it  cannot  be.  For  how  could  such  a  mira- 
cle as  she  is,  the  supreme  achievement  of  the 
Creator,  and  the  concentrated  essence  of  the 
charm  of  all  her  sex,  think  of  such  a  one  as  me, 
even  in  a  dream,  as  an  object  of  affection? 
And  yet,  if  not,  how  is  her  behaviour  to  be 
explained?  For  I  might  perhaps  believe  that 
she  was  merely  playing  with  me  for  her  own 
amusement,  were  she  any  other  woman  than 
exactly  the  one  she  is:  but  as  it  is,  no  one 
could  believe  it  that  had  ever  seen  her  for  an 
instant:  and  she  needs  no  other  argument  in 
her  defence  than  every  glance  at  her  supplies. 
And  it  may  be,  after  all,  that  she  took  up  with 
Narasinha  merely  out  of  pique,  at  being  so 
unceremoniously  slighted  and  cast  off  as  a 
thing  of  no  value  by  her  booby  of  a  husband, 
and,  as  it  were,  also  out  of  gratitude  to  find 
herself  appreciated  at  her  true  value,  which 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         85 

she  must  very  well  understand,  notwithstand- 
ing all  her  own  beautiful  self -depreciation, 
which  is  an  extra  charm  enhancing  all  her  other 
charms:  and  afterwards,  it  may  be,  she  has 
changed  her  mind,  as  women  do,  about  Nara- 
sinha,  without  being  willing  to  admit  it,  even 
to  herself;  and  come,  only  the  other  day, 
suddenly  on  me.  Aye!  beyond  a  doubt,  this 
would  be  the  true  conclusion,  and  the  answer 
to  the  riddle,  but  for  one  consideration  that 
makes  it  utterly  impossible,  that  I  am  only  I. 

And  so  as  I  debated  with  myself,  all  at  once 
I  heard  my  own  name  called  aloud  in  the  air. 
And  I  looked  up,  and  lo!  there  was  my  old 
friend  Haridasa,1  on  a  camel.  And  he  said: 
Ha!  Shatrunjaya,  art  thou  thyself  indeed,  or 
another  exactly  like  thee,  or  hast  thou  lost 
thy  senses  and  thy  ears?  For  here  have  I 
been  calling  to  thee,  all  along  the  street, 
without  succeeding  in  waking  thee  from  thy 
dream,  till  now.  And  what  can  it  be,  that 
can  so  fill  thy  mind  as  to  stop  up  all  its 
entrances? 

And  I  exclaimed  in  delight:  Ah!  Haridasa, 
thou  art  come  in  the  very  nick  of  time,  the 

1  Pronounce  aa  a  trisyllable:  Haridas. 


86      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

very  man,  at  this  moment,  that  I  need  most. 
Get  off  thy  camel,  for  a  while,  and  come  and 
sit  beside  me,  and  find  me,  if  thou  canst,  an 
answer  to  a  question  that  I  cannot  find  myself. 
And  so  he  did.  And  as  soon  as  we  were  seated 
by  the  roadside,  I  said  to  him:  Haridasa, 
listen.  Thou  knowest  me  well.  Now  tell  me 
thy  opinion:  am  I  one  that  a  woman  might 
choose  out  of  many  for  a  lover? 

And  Haridasa  began  to  laugh.  And  he 
looked  at  me  shrewdly,  and  he  said:  Aha! 
Shatrunjaya,  the  lute-player,  so  this  was  thy 
preoccupation?  Art  thou  one  to  catch  a  wo- 
man's fancy?  O  Shatrunjaya,  why  not?  For 
art  thou  not  a  musician,  famous  in  the  world, 
and  a  man  among  men,  into  the  bargain?  All 
women  love  a  giant,  such  as  thou  art.  Any 
woman  of  them  all  might  do  worse  than  fall 
in  love  with  thee.  And  yet  thy  very  question 
shows,  that  in  this  matter  of  women,  thou  art 
little  better  than  a  child,  as  indeed  thou  always 
wert.  For  even  the  Deity  himself  can  never 
tell  what  man  any  woman  will  prefer,  or  why : 
as  how  should  he,  seeing  that  she  does  not 
even  know,  herself?  And  there  never  yet 
existed  any  man  whom  some  woman  would 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         87 

not  worship,  let  him  be  as  ugly  as  you  please, 
or  even  for  that  very  reason:  and  yet,  let  a 
man  be  a  very  Kamadewa,  woman  after  wo- 
man will  pass  him  by,  without  even  so  much 
as  casting  a  glance  at  him  out  of  the  very 
corner  of  her  eye.  For  a  woman's  affection 
depends  on  her  fancy,  and  that  is  like  the  wind, 
that  comes  and  goes  and  wavers  how  and  where 
it  will,  without  a  reason  that  anybody  can 
discover.  And  it  is  sheer  waste  of  time  to 
sit  and  wonder,  whether  thou  art  or  art  not 
a  man  that  a  woman  might  love.  Thou  art 
both,  or  neither:  for  the  only  way  to  settle 
thy  question  is  to  try.  And  she  will,  or  she 
will  not,  of  her  own  accord.  And  now,  who 
is  she,  this  beauty  who  has  set  thee  so  knotty 
a  problem  to  solve? 

And  I  said  with  indifference:  There  is  no 
such  beauty;  for  all  my  perplexity  arose  from 
the  line  of  an  old  song:  Nectar  when  she  turns 
towards  thee:  poison  when  she  turns  away. 

And  Haridasa  turned  sharp  towards  me, 
and  looked  at  me  intently  for  a  very  long 
while,  saying  absolutely  nothing.  And  we 
sat  talking  of  other  things  till  he  rose  to  go 
away.     And  then,  at  the  very  moment  he  was 


88      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

mounting  on  his  camel,  he  turned,  and  came 
back.  And  he  said:  Listen!  Thou  art  hiding 
from  me  something  that  maybe  I  could  startle 
thee  by  guessing:  but  no  matter.  Keep  thy 
secret:  but  listen  to  a  piece  of  good  advice, 
which  may  serve  thee  at  a  pinch.  If  ever 
thou  wouldst  have  a  woman  prize  thee,  never 
let  her  see  that  thou  settest  any  store  by  her. 
Treat  her  as  a  straw,  and  she  will  run  after 
thee  as  if  thou  wert  a  magnet:  make  thyself 
her  slave,  and  she  will  hold  thee  cheap,  and 
discard  thee  for  another.  For  women  think 
meanly  of  their  sex,  and  utterly  despise  the 
man  who  places  them  above  himself:  since 
in  her  heart  every  woman  longs  to  be  a  man, 
bewailing  her  misfortune  in  being  born  a  wo- 
man, and  praying  all  her  life  for  one  thing 
only,  to  be  born  a  man  in  another  birth.  And 
one  thing  above  all  she  cannot  understand, 
how  or  why  any  man  should  make  a  fuss  about 
any  woman,  as  all  men  do:  which,  just  be- 
cause she  is  not  a  man  herself,  she  cannot 
comprehend.  And  like  jugglers,  that  are  not 
taken  in  by  their  own  tricks,  women  look  upon 
men  as  mere  fools,  for  being  taken  in  at  all. 
For  a  woman's  charm,  to  a  woman,  is  not 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         89 

only  not  a  charm  at  all,  but  a  trick,  and  a 
lure,  understood,  and  utterly  despised.  So 
now,  be  a  man,  and  whatever  folly  thou  art 
meditating,  at  least  beware  of  being  guilty 
of  the  very  greatest  of  them  all,  by  doubting 
of  thy  own  superiority  of  manhood  to  the 
womanhood  of  any  woman,  no  matter  who 
she  be:  and  earning  her  contempt,  by  lying 
at  her  feet.  And  now,  farewell!  for  I  have 
business  with  Narasinha. 

And  at  the  name  of  Narasinha  I  pricked 
up  my  ears.  And  I  said,  with  feigned  indiffer- 
ence: Who  is  Narasinha? 

And  Haridasa  spat  upon  the  ground.  And 
he  said:  One  whom  thou  art  lucky  not  to 
know:  and  yet,  his  name  is  apropos.  For 
he  is  the  Queen's  lover,  and  an  instance  in 
point:  since  he  leads  her  by  a  string,  just 
because  he  treats  her  as  a  trifle,  and  not,  as 
all  her  other  lovers  do,  as  a  gem  not  to  be 
matched  by  any  other  in  the  sea.  And  yet 
he  is  not,  like  thee,  a  man  among  men,  but  a 
man  among  women.     For  just  as  a  dancing- 

irl  loves  to  be  treated  as  a  queen,  so  docs  a 
queen  love  to  be  treated  as  a  dancing-girl. 

And  then,  all  at  once,  lie  struck  me  on  the 


90      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

shoulder.  And  he  said,  in  a  low  voice:  Why 
didst  thou  start,  when  I  named  Narasinha? 
And  without  waiting  for  any  answer,  he  got 
quickly  on  his  camel,  and  rode  away,  never 
looking  back. 


XIII 

And  I  stood  looking  after  him,  with  a  startled 
heart,  and  then  I  went  home  slowly,  saying  to 
myself:  How  in  the  world  did  he  guess  my 
secret,  and  what  did  he  mean?  Was  there  a 
warning  in  his  words?  And  what  is  all  this 
about  the  Queen?  Did  he  ever  see  her  in  his 
life?  for  if  he  had,  he  would  long  ago  have 
discovered  that  all  his  rules  have  exceptions, 
of  which  Tarawali  is  one:  being  not  only  the 
very  gem  beyond  comparison  that  he  spoke  of 
with  contempt,  but  a  woman  of  women  who 
very  certainly  never  would  despise  any  one  at 
all,  least  of  all  the  man  who  thought  her  ex- 
actly what  she  is,  a  star,  far,  far  above  his 
own  muddy  earth :  a  thing  made  of  some  rare 
celestial  matter,  differing  altogether  from  any- 
thing to  be  found  here  below,  fetched  by  the 
Creator  when  he  meant  to  make  her  from  some 
abysmal  intermundane  mine,  where  ocean 
foam   and    lunar  ooze    and    sandalwood    and 


92      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

camphor  lie  jumbled  up  together  with  the 
essence  of  all  curves  and  smiles  and  whispers 
and  soft  kisses  and  sweet  glances  and  irresolu- 
tion and  long  hair.  And  the  image  of  the 
Queen  rose  up  before  me,  laughing  as  it  were 
in  scorn  at  Haridasa,  and  utterly  obliterating 
everything  he  said.  And  I  said  to  myself  in 
ecstasy :  Sunset  will  be  here,  very  soon.  And 
I  reached  my  house,  and  looked,  and  lo !  there 
was  sitting  at  the  door  a  Rajpoot,  covered  with 
the  desert's  dust,  and  holding  by  the  rein  a 
horse  that  hung  its  head,  trembling  still,  and 
white  with  foam. 

And  as  I  came  towards  him,  he  stood  up, 
and  made  obeisance.  And  he  said:  Maharaj, 
thou  art  come  at  last,  and  it  was  time.  And 
I  said:  What  is  the  matter?  Then  he  said: 
Thy  mother  sent  me,  and  I  have  ridden  night 
and  day.  The  King  thy  father  is  dying,  and 
every  moment  he  may  be  dead.  And  now, 
if  thou  cares t,  either  for  thy  father,  or  thy 
mother,  or  thy  throne,  there  is  only  one  chance 
for  thee,  to  fly  to  them  as  fast  as  any  horse 
can  take  thee,  without  the  delay  of  a  single 
moment.  So  my  message  is  delivered,  and 
the  Maharaj  is  judge. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman  93 

And  again  he  made  obeisance,  and  went 
away  on  foot,  leading  his  horse  behind.  And 
I  stood,  looking  after  him  in  a  stupor,  like  one 
struck  by  a  bolt  from  heaven,  in  the  form  of 
his  appalling  news.  And  I  said  to  myself: 
Go  I  must,  or  my  mother  is  ousted,  and  the 
raj  lost.  And  yet  if  I  go,  the  sun  will  set  in 
the  Queen's  garden,  and  I  shall  not  be  there. 

And  I  pushed  my  door  wide  open,  and  went 
in,  and  sat  down,  with  my  face  buried  in  my 
hands.  And  my  own  words  sang  in  my  head, 
over  and  over  again:  Go  I  must,  or  the  raj  is 
lost,  and  my  mother  ousted.  And  the  sun 
will  set  in  the  Queen's  garden,  and  I  shall  not 
be  there. 

And  I  heard  a  laugh  beside  me,  and  I  looked 
up.  Lo!  there  was  Chaturika,  standing  in  the 
open  door !  And  she  looked  at  me  with  laugh- 
ing eyes,  and  she  said:  Ha!  as  it  seems,  I  am 
just  in  time  to  save  thy  life:  for  thou  art  ap- 
parently all  but  dead.  And,  beyond  a  doubt, 
the  Queen  is  a  cunning  doctor,  who  under- 
stands her  patient's  case.  For  she  sent  me  to 
thee,  saying:  Go  to  him,  O  Chaturika,  since 
without  thee  he  will  die:  and  help  him,  how 
thou  canst,  to  live  until  the  sun  has  set. 


94      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

And  I  stood  up  and  seized  my  hair  with  both 
my  hands.  And  I  groaned  aloud,  and  said: 
Alas!  Chaturika,  what  is  a  man  to  do,  when 
two  suns  set,  in  opposite  directions?  And 
instantly,  all  the  laughter  died  out  of  her  face. 
And  she  looked  at  me  with  dark  eyes,  and  she 
said:  Two  suns!  What  dost  thou  mean? 
And  I  told  her  all,  and  she  listened  in  silence, 
till  I  ended.  And  then  she  said,  with  a  sigh 
of  relief:  Ah!  is  that  all?  And  I  exclaimed: 
All?  Is  it  not  enough  for  thee?  And  she  said: 
I  was  terrified,  by  thy  talking  of  two  suns. 
For  I  began  to  think  the  Queen  had  a  rival 
in  thy  affection.  And  I  laughed,  in  anger  and 
derision,  and  I  exclaimed:  A  rival!  Thou 
little  fool !  I  am  sorely  tempted  to  beat  thee, 
for  daring  to  think  anything  of  the  kind,  even 
in  a  dream.  What!  a  rival!  to  Tarawali! 
Thou  art  stark  mad.  How  could  she  possibly 
have  a  rival  in  the  three  worlds?  But  what 
am  I  to  do?  And  she  said:  It  is  thy  choice, 
not  mine.  Only  when  once  a  sun  has  set, 
who  can  tell,  if  it  will  ever  rise  again?  And 
what  am  I  to  say  to  the  Queen? 

And  as  she  stood,  looking  at  me,  for  an 
answer,  there  rose  into  my  recollection  the 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman  95 

image  of  Tarawali,  leaning  towards  me  in  the 
moonlight  and  saying:  To-morrow,  at  sunset, 
I  will  be  thy  dream.  And  suddenly  I  ex- 
claimed :  Go  back  to  her,  O  Chaturika,  and  tell 
her  that  my  only  sun  is  the  sun  that  sets  in 
a  Queen's  garden. 

And  then,  to  my  astonishment,  that  singular 
Chaturika  suddenly  threw  herself  into  my 
arms,  and  kissed  me  without  waiting  to  be 
asked.  And  seeing  me  look  at  her  in  perplex- 
ity, she  burst  out  laughing,  and  she  said  with 
delight:  Ah!  ah!  So  then,  after  all,  there  is 
a  difference,  as  it  seems,  between  Chaturika 
and  Tarawali.  No  doubt  some  kisses  are  far 
sweeter,  but  the  sun  must  set,  ere  the  lovely 
digit  of  the  moon  rises,  and  I  must  do  what  I 
can  meanwhile,  to  help  thee  to  keep  alive. 
It  was  her  own  order.  And  moreover  she 
will  not  be  jealous,  and  will  not  scold  me  when 
I  tell  her  all  about  it  on  my  return.  And  I 
said:  Nay,  thou  saucy  little  beauty,  tell  her 
with  all  my  heart,  and  add  that  her  drug  was 
efficacious,  since  sandalwood  and  camphor 
turn  everything  that  touches  them  into  a  little 
hit  of  fragrance  exactly  like  their  own.  And 
take  her  hand,  and  kiss  it,  and  say  I  send  the 


96       The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

kiss,  like  her  message,  by  thy  mouth,  and  here 
it  is. 

And  I  caught  her  in  my  arms,  and  kissed 
her  as  she  struggled,  not  willing  this  time  to 
be  kissed  at  all,  exactly  on  her  laughing  lips, 
and  then  she  went  away. 


XIV 

And  I  said  to  myself  in  ecstasy,  as  she  dis- 
appeared: Out  on  the  very  notion  of  leaving 
Tarawali  in  the  lurch,  and  losing  the  very 
essence  of  the  nectar  of  the  lady  of  my  dream, 
so  kind,  so  clever,  and  so  wonderful  as  she  is! 
Well  did  she  understand,  how  the  very  sight 
of  this  audacious  little  cheti  would  act  like  a 
balm  on  the  fever  of  my  longing  for  herself: 
carrying  about  with  her,  as  she  does,  a  remi- 
niscence of  the  intoxicating  fragrance  of  the 
great  champak  flower,  whose  messenger  she  is, 
like  a  female  bee,  scattering  another's  honey 
as  she  goes.  Aye!  Chaturika  is  like  a  letter, 
smelling  of  the  sandal  of  the  hand  that  wrote 
it,  far  away.  And  Tarawali  understood  it  all, 
and  sent  her;  not  being  jealous,  as  Chaturika 
says,  and  indeed,  as  she  said  herself,  last  night. 
As  if  a  star  of  heaven  could  possibly  be  jealous 
of  a  little  Ganges  pot!'     Aye!  little  did  my 

■  Th<-  [ndian  women  n  ed  to  tend  little  earthenware  di 
with  a  lighted  wick  in  their  oil,  Boating  down  the  Ganges,  tr 

97 


98      The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

mother  dream,  when  she  sent  to  fetch  me, 
what  influence  she  had  against  her.  As  if  I 
would  purchase  any  kingdom  in  the  world  at 
the  price  of  sacrificing  my  sunset  with  the 
Queen !  And  how  can  I  help  it,  if  the  King  my 
father  chose  just  this  unlucky  astrological 
conjunction,  to  die?  Or  what  good  can  be 
done  by  haste?  For  if  he  is  dead  already,  as 
is  very  likely,  all  is  lost,  and  it  is  useless  to 
go  at  all.  And  if  on  the  contrary,  he  lives 
for  a  little  longer,  I  shall  find  him  still  alive, 
if  I  start  to-morrow.  And  is  it  likely  he  will 
live  or  die  exactly  so  as  to  make  my  starting 
now  either  necessary  or  advantageous?  And 
shall  I  take  the  risk,  and  throw  away  the  very 
fruit  of  my  birth,  for  nothing  at  all?  And 
what  would  Tarawali  think  of  me,  if  I  left  her 
in  the  lurch,  counting  her  inestimable  favour 
as  a  straw?  Beyond  all  doubt,  she  would 
wipe  me  from  the  memory  as  a  thing  beneath 
even  contempt,  like  a  sieve,  all  holes,  into 
which  it  is  futile  to  pour  anything  at  all.  No, 
I  will  keep  my  sunset,  even  if  I  lose  my  king- 


symbolise  their  children's  lives.  Perhaps  they  do  it  still:  but  all 
these  beautiful  old  superstitious  practices  are  dying  away,  in 
the  light  of ' '  representative  institutions.  "New  lamps  for  old  ones ! 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         99 

dom.  And  yet,  why  should  I,  after  all? 
For  to-morrow  when  I  actually  start,  I  will 
go  very  fast  indeed,  preparing  everything 
beforehand,  and  having  my  horse  waiting  for 
me,  so  as  to  lose  no  time  when  I  leave  the 
Queen,  carrying  with  me  as  I  ride  the  memory 
of  to-night:  whereas  if  I  threw  her  over  and 
set  off  to-night,  the  thought  of  what  I  was 
leaving  behind  would  be  so  heavy  as  utterly 
to  prevent  me  from  going  along  at  all. 

And  so  I  mused,  waiting  all  the  time  with 
fierce  impatience  for  the  sun  to  sink,  till  at 
last  day  came  to  an  end.  And  then  I  rose  in 
delight,  exclaiming:  At  last,  at  last,  separa- 
tion is  over,  and  now  it  is  time!  And  I  went 
very  quickly  to  the  palace,  and  found  the 
pratihdri:  and  she  led  me  away  straight  to 
the  door,  and  opened  it,  and  I  went  in. 


XV 


And  then,  once  more,  I  stood  still,  listening 
in  ecstasy  to  the  door  as  it  shut  behind  me, 
and  tasting,  as  it  were,  for  an  instant  the 
delicious  promise  that  the  dusky  garden  gave 
me,  standing  like  a  diver  on  the  edge  of  the 
ocean,  just  before  he  plunges  in,  knowing 
well  that  it  holds  a  pearl.  And  I  stretched 
my  arms  towards  the  trees,  saying  to  myself: 
This  is  not  like  the  other  times,  but  far,  far 
better:  for  to-night  she  will  not  ask  me  to 
give  her  a  music  lesson,  but  she  said  herself, 
she  would  be  my  dream.  And  I  wonder  how 
she  will  do  it,  and  what  she  is  going  to  do. 
And  then  I  went  on  through  the  trees,  looking 
from  side  to  side,  with  a  soul  as  it  were  on 
tiptoe  with  curiosity  and  anticipation.  And 
far  away  through  the  trees  I  saw  the  red  rim 
of  the  full  moon  rising  in  a  great  hurry  as  if 
like  myself  he  was  dying  with  impatience  just 
to  see  her,  and  saying  as  it  were:  I  am  the 

IOO 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        101 

only  lamp  fit  to  light  her,  and  I  am  just  com- 
ing in  another  moment,  like  herself.  And  I 
passed  by  her  swing  that  hung  drooping,  as  it 
were,  sadly  from  its  tree,  because  she  was  not 
there.  And  little  by  little,  my  heart  began 
to  crave  for  the  sight  of  her,  growing  restless 
and  uneasy,  and  saying  to  itself  with  anxiety : 
What  if  something  had  actually  prevented  her 
from  coming,  and  the  garden  were  really  as 
empty  as  it  seems,  and  she  were  not  here  at  all. 
And  then  at  last  I  reached  the  ten-ace  by  the 
pool,  exactly  where  I  saw  her  first,  and  looked 
round  with  eager  eyes,  and  she  was  not  there. 
And  then,  just  as  I  was  on  the  verge  of  sinking 
into  the  black  abyss  of  disappointment,  all  at 
once  she  came  out  of  the  shadow  of  a  clump 
of  great  bamboos,  in  which  she  had  been 
hiding,  as  it  seemed,  just  to  tease  me  into  the 
belief  she  was  not  there,  in  order  to  intensify 
the  unutterable  delight  of  her  abrupt  appear- 
ance. And  she  stood  still,  as  if  to  let  me  look 
at  her,  between  two  bamboo  stems,  just 
touching  them  with  the  very  tips  of  the  fingers 
ich  hand,  and  saying  in  her  soft  sweet 
voice  with  a  smile:  \\':<  I  nol  righl  in  choos- 
ing this  as  the  only  proper  place  lor  thee  to 


102    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

meet  the  lady  of  thy  dream,  where  we  met 
each  other  first? 

And  I  stood,  confounded  as  it  were,  dazed, 
by  a  vision  so  marvellously  lovely  that  it 
puzzled  me,  murmuring  to  myself:  Can  this 
be  Tarawali  after  all,  and  what  has  she  done 
to  herself,  for  she  has  changed,  somehow  or 
other,  into  the  incarnation  of  some  deity 
exactly  like  her,  and  she  looks  like  an  image 
of  the  wife  of  Wishnu1  that  has  somehow  or 
other  come  down  from  its  pedestal  on  a  temple 
wall?  For  she  was  clothed  in  some  strange 
colour  that  hovered  between  pallid  yellow  and 
deep  red,  seeming  to  have  been  borrowed  from 
the  setting  sun  and  the  rising  moon.  And  it 
was  all  pulled  forward,  so  that  it  clung  some- 
how or  other  tight  to  her  rounded  limbs,  mak- 
ing her  whole  outline  from  head  to  foot  look 
like  soft  marble  in  the  moonlit  dusk,  and  it 
was  collected  in  front  into  one  great  heavy 
fold  that  hung  straight  down  like  a  red  pillar 
from  the  very  middle  of  her  small  waist,  end- 

1  That  is  Shrf,  the  Hindoo  Aphrodite.  Only  those  who  have 
studied  Hindoo  goddesses  on  the  old  temple  walls,  where  they 
stand  with  everlasting  marble  smiles  in  long  silent  rows,  buried 
in  the  jungles  that  encircle  their  deserted  fanes,  will  enter  into 
the  atmosphere  of  this  strange  description. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        103 

ing  just  above  her  feet  in  great  gold  tassels, 
that  nearly  touched  the  huge  anklets  of  green 
jade  with  which  her  two  little  bare  feet  were 
loaded,  as  if  to  help  them  to  stand  firm.  And 
a  soft  broad  band  of  gold  ran  right  round  her 
just  below  her  lovely  breast,  that  lay  held  in 
its  gold  cup  like  a  great  double  billow  made  of 
the  creamy  lather  of  the  sea,  prevented  from 
escaping  as  it  swelled  up  by  the  delicious  dam 
formed  by  the  curve  of  her  shoulders  meeting 
the  soft  bulge  of  the  upper  part  of  her  rounded 
arms,  which  came  out  from  each  side  and 
seemed  as  it  were  to  wave  gently  in  the  air 
like  creeper  sprays,  free  and  unconfined,  and 
not  like  her  feet,  chained  down,  but  absolutely 
bare  of  any  ornament  at  all.  And  on  her 
hair  was  not  a  star,  but  a  great  yellow  moon- 
stone, that  shone  with  a  dull  glimmer  like  a 
rival  moon  of  her  own,  and  over  her  left 
shoulder  a  long  coil  of  dark  hair  came  out  from 
behind  her  head  and  hung  down  like  a  serpent, 
ending  in  a  soft  wisp  like  a  yak's  tail  that  was 
tied  round  with  yellow  silk.  And  the  only 
thing  that  she  retained  of  what  she  was  before 
was  the  intoxicating  charm  of  the  upright 
poise  of  her  whole  figure,  which  seemed  to  say 


104     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

to  me  as  I  saw  it :  I  am  the  one  thing  about 
her  which  she  cannot  possibly  hide  or  alter, 
let  her  do  what  she  will. 

And  she  stood  quite  still,  as  I  gazed  at  her 
in  ecstasy,  lost  in  the  wonder  of  my  own  eyes, 
looking  back  at  me  with  her  head  just  a  little 
on  one  side,  and  her  eyebrows  just  a  very  little 
raised,  as  if  with  appeal,  and  great,  soft,  sweet, 
caressing,  smiling  eyes.  And  then,  after  a 
while,  she  said,  looking  down:  See,  my  feet 
are  prisoners  to-night,  to  do  thee  honour,  as 
their  lord,  and  they  cannot  walk  fast  or  far, 
but  it  does  not  matter,  as  they  will  not  be 
wanted,  for  I  have  a  surprise  coming  for  thee, 
by  and  by.  But  as  to  my  arms,  I  thought  it 
better  to  leave  them  without  the  encumbrance 
of  any  ornament  at  all.  And  she  waved  them 
gently  in  the  air,  and  a  little  smile  stole  over 
her  lips,  and  she  said :  It  would  only  have  been 
in  the  way,  if  the  fancy  should  come  upon 
thee  to  say  good-bye  in  thy  own  fashion. 
And  now,  it  was  very  difficult  for  me  to  know 
exactly  what  to  do,  so  as  to  place  the  lady  of 
thy  dream  before  thee,  since  thou  hast  never 
told  me  what  she  looked  like  in  the  dream. 
And  so  thou  must  forgive  me,  if  I  have  come 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         105 

in  anything  short  of  thy  expectation,  for  I 
have  done  what  I  could.  Art  thou  satisfied 
with  her,  as  she  stands?  For  if  not,  I  must  call 
my  soul  to  the  assistance  of  its  body. 

And  I  stood,  unable  to  speak  or  move,  gaz- 
ing at  her  almost  in  a  swoon  by  reason  of  the 
excess  of  my  intoxication;  and  after  a  while, 
I  drew  a  very  deep  sigh.  And  she  came  to- 
wards me,  very  slowly,  as  I  stood  rooted  to 
the  ground;  and  she  put  up  her  arms,  and 
laid  one  hand  on  each  shoulder,  with  a  touch 
like  the  fall  of  a  flake  of  snow.  And  she  said: 
I  know  what  is  the  matter:  thou  art  spell- 
bound by  a  return  of  thy  original  delusion. 
But  it  will  leave  thee,  and  thy  senses  will 
return  to  thee,  once  thou  hast  said  good-bye. 
And  then,  seized  with  frenzy,  I  caught  her  in 
my  arms,  and  suddenly  she  prevented  me 
from  kissing  her  by  putting  her  hand  over 
my  mouth.  And  she  said  with  a  smile:  Wait! 
Am  I  equal  to  Chaturika,  for  as  it  seems,  thou 
hast  been  playing  me  false?  And  for  all 
answer,  I  took  her  hand,  and  kissed  it,  and 
put  it  round  my  neck,  and  then  fell  to  kissing 
her  in  madness,  continuing  for  I  know  not 
how  long,  bereft  of  my  senses  by  the  perfume 


io6    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

of  her  hair  and  the  touch  of  her  arms.  And 
then  at  last,  I  took  her  face  in  my  hands.  And 
I  said :  Away  with  Chaturika.  Thou  knowest 
all,  and  art  only  jesting:  and  my  soul  quivers 
in  my  body  at  the  sound  of  thy  name.  And 
she  laughed,  as  I  kissed  her  very  gently  on 
her  two  eyes,  and  she  said:  Perhaps  I  know: 
and  yet,  I  will  not  forgive  thee  for  Chaturika, 
but  on  one  condition.  And  I  said:  Ask  any- 
thing thou  wilt:  it  matters  not.  Then  she 
said :  Look  at  me  very  carefully,  and  think  ere 
thou  speakest:  and  tell  me,  exactly  what  it  is, 
in  me,  that  chains  thee  so  to  me,  which  Chatu- 
rika and  others  are  without. 

And  I  said:  Stand  still,  and  let  me  look  at 
thee,  and  think.  And  I  put  her  away,  and 
stood  back,  examining  her  very  carefully  just 
as  she  had  wished,  walking  round  and  round 
her,  and  saying  to  myself:  It  is  absolutely 
useless,  for  I  know  what  to  say  without  any 
need  of  looking,  and  yet  I  do  not  know  if  I 
can  ever  bring  myself  to  stop,  since  she  has 
given  me,  as  if  on  purpose  to  delight  me,  a 
task  more  delicious  than  I  ever  had  to  do 
before.  And  all  the  time  she  stood  absolutely 
still,  patiently  waiting  till  I  ended,  and  look- 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        107 

ing  at  me  every  time  I  came  round,  with 
raised  eyebrows  and  a  smile.  And  at  last  I 
could  not  endure  it  any  longer,  and  I  said: 
Ah!  come  back  into  my  arms,  which  hunger 
for  thee,  and  I  will  answer.  And  instantly, 
she  came  and  stood,  listening  attentively,  and 
caressing  my  ear  unawares,  as  she  listened, 
with  her  hand.  And  I  said:  Thy  question 
is  unanswerable,  and  my  examination  nothing 
to  the  purpose:  since  where  was  the  use  of 
looking  at  thy  lovely  body  to  find  what  is 
only  to  be  found  in  thy  soul,  to  which  thy 
body  owes  the  essence  of  even  its  own  intoxica- 
tion? For  thy  soul  peeps  out,  from  behind  it, 
in  the  poise  of  thy  head,  and  the  straight 
erectness  of  its  carriage,  and  the  aroma  of  the 
royalty  of  sex  that  oozes,  as  it  were,  from  its 
every  gesture,  mixed,  in  some  unintelligible 
way,  with  a  soft  grace  that  seems  to  be  all  its 
own.  But  the  spell  thou  art  asking  me  to 
catch  for  thee  looks  from  thy  eyes,  and  lurks 
in  thy  lips,  and  murmurs  in  thy  marvellous 
voice,  which  was  silent  all  the  while  I  was  con- 
sidering: and  it  is  some  naive  and  submissive 
gentleness  in  the  quality  of  thy  soul,  which 
turns  all  thy  other  perfections  into  instruments 


108    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

of  delirium,  and  yet  notwithstanding  contra- 
dicts them  all.  For  any  other  woman  but 
thyself  possessing  even  one  of  them  would  be 
proud,  whereas  thou  dost  not  even  seem  to 
be  aware  that  there  is  anything  about  thee 
other  than  the  common.  And  as  it  seems  to 
me,  it  is  this,  which  is  the  core  of  thy  irresist- 
ible fascination,  giving  to  all  thy  particular 
elements  of  loveliness  a  kind  of  salt,  that 
mixes  with  their  sweetness  to  drive  me  mad. 
And  she  looked  at  me  silently  with  medita- 
tive eyes;  and  after  a  while  she  said  slowly: 
I  wish  I  were  a  man,  only  for  a  moment,  to 
judge  of  myself  and  thy  answer:  for  in  one 
way  thou  art  right,  since  I  cannot  understand 
why  all  men  seem  to  lose  their  reason  as  soon 
as  they  see  me.  And  I  said:  There  it  is 
again  the  very  thing  I  spoke  of,  in  thy  words: 
and  it  is  so  simple,  and  yet  so  indescribably 
delicious,  that  very  glad  indeed  I  am  that 
thou  art  not  a  man,  but  a  woman,  and  that 
it  is  I  that  am  the  man.  And  it  would  be  a 
crime  in  the  Creator  to  gratify  thy  wish  by 
making  thee  a  man,  who  art  the  very  essence 
of  all  womanly  perfection  and  attraction. 
And  for  satisfaction  of  thy  wish,  look  at  thy- 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        109 

self  through  my  eyes,  and  thy  wish  is  attained, 
since  I  am  myself  the  very  mirror  provided 
thee  by  the  Creator  for  that  very  purpose. 
And  so  learn,  by  my  mouth,  that  thy  spell  is 
something  in  thee  that  resembles  the  peace  of 
a  forest  pool.  And  even  to-night,  all  the 
while  we  have  been  together,  thou  hast  been, 
and  art,  so  curiously  quiet,  like  the  breast  of 
a  swan,  bathing  in  the  water  of  passion  and 
emotion  without  even  getting  wet,  and  like 
the  snow  of  Kailas,  never  melting  even  in  the 
sun  of  noon. 

And  again  she  looked  at  me  with  curiosity: 
and  she  sighed,  as  if  to  dismiss  what  she  could 
not  comprehend.  And  she  said:  See!  the 
moon  has  climbed  high,  and  is  gazing  on 
the  lotuses,  and  I  am  tired  of  standing,  and  the 
time  has  come  to  give  thee  thy  surprise.  And 
she  drew  me  away  by  the  hand  along  the  ter- 
race, and  down  its  marble  steps,  till  we  came 
to  a  great  tree  that  hung  down  over  the  water 
like  an  umbrella,  leaning  from  the  bank  of  the 
pool,  so  that  nothing  could  be  seen  through 
its  wall.  And  she  took  me  and  turned  me 
with  my  face  tothe  water,  and  she  said  :  Stand 
here  absolutely  still,  and  do  not  look  round, 


no    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

and  I  will  bring  thee  thy  surprise.  And  then 
she  went  quickly  into  the  trees. 

And  I  stood  waiting,  exactly  as  I  was  told, 
listening  to  her  steps  as  she  went  away,  and 
wondering  where  she  was  going,  and  what  she 
was  meditating,  and  what  the  surprise  was, 
when  it  came.  And  so  as  I  stood,  I  said  to 
myself:  Can  I  really  be  awake,  or  is  it  all 
only  a  long  dream?  For  I  seem  to  have  been 
dreaming  ever  since  I  saw  her  first.  And 
time  slipped  away,  and  still  I  stood,  straining 
my  ears  for  the  sound  of  her  steps  returning, 
and  dying  to  look  round,  but  never  looking, 
and  haunted  by  a  feeling  that  was  almost 
terror,  saying  to  myself:  Why  is  she  away  so 
long,  and  what  if  she  never  returns  at  all? 

And  so  as  I  stood,  with  my  soul  in  my  ears, 
turned  as  it  were  behind  me,  suddenly  there 
came  round  the  tree  upon  the  water  a  great  boat 
of  the  colour  of  a  lotus  leaf,  turned  up  at  each 
end  like  the  neck  of  a  swan.  And  it  came 
straight  towards  me,  and  as  it  reached  me,  its 
boatman  stood  up,  looking  at  me  with  a  smile. 

And  I  started,  and  all  at  once  I  laughed 
aloud,  for  amazement  and  delight:  and  even 
so,  I  hardly  knew  her  to  be  herself.     For  she 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        1 1 1 

had  cast  away  all  her  deity,  and  turned  her- 
self into  a  cheti,  resembling  a  fragrant  essence 
of  midnight  without  a  moon,  clothed  with 
absolute  simplicity  in  soft  dead  black,  with 
her  own  dark  hair  for  her  only  decoration, 
tied  in  a  knot  around  her  head  like  a  cloud  of 
misty  intoxication,  and  floating  about  her 
shoulders  in  confusion.  And  she  looked  at 
me  with  questioning  eyes  that  shone  bright 
in  the  moon's  rays,  and  said  naively,  with  a 
smile  that  almost  broke  my  heart  in  two: 
Now  I  am  within  a  little  of  being  equal  to 
Chaturika?  Is  the  maid  a  substitute  for  the 
queen  that  has  disappeared? 

And  as  I  gazed  at  her  in  rapture  without 
giving  any  answer,  she  said  again:  See!  now 
we  will  float  for  a  little  while  among  the  moon- 
lotuses,  before  we  say  good-bye.  And  this  is 
thy  surprise.  And  it  is  a  delight  that  I  keep 
for  myself  alone,  and  very  few  indeed  are  priv- 
ileged to  share  it:  but  to-night,  I  am  the  lady 
of  thy  dream,  and  I  will  not  do  my  favours  by 
halves:  and  so  thou  shalt  be  my  partner.  And 
this  is  my  swan's  nest,  and  my  floating  cradle, 
in  which  I  do  my  dreaming:  for  I  can  dream 
dreams  as  well  as  thou.     And  now  I  am  going 


ii2    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

to  dream  a  little,  and  we  will  dream  together. 
And  come,  for  the  lotuses  are  waiting  for  us. 

And  I  got  into  the  boat,  and  pushed  it  out 
upon  the  water,  and  she  came  to  me  of  her 
own  accord,  and  locked  her  arms  around  my 
neck.  And  we  drifted  to  and  fro,  exactly  as 
the  boat  chose,  on  the  silent  black  mirror  of 
the  pool,  never  saying  a  single  word,  but 
kissing  each  other  insatiably  with  lips  that 
were  never  tired,  lost  in  the  bottomless  abyss 
of  the  ecstasy  of  mutual  union.  And  all  the 
time  she  bathed  me  with  the  beauty  of  her 
eyes,  that  like  the  pool,  drew  the  moonlight 
down  into  their  dark  depths,  caressing  me 
with  soft  hands  that  touched  me  like  the  fall 
of  a  leaf,  and  lips  that  smiled  and  trembled 
like  the  shadows  of  the  lotuses  in  the  still 
water's  swirl.  And  the  moon  rose  higher  and 
higher,  and  the  night  crept  unobserved  away, 
for  I  was  utterly  unconscious  of  the  passage 
of  any  time.  And  then  at  last  as  I  lay,  worn 
out  and  overcome  by  the  excess  of  my  own 
emotion,  and  lulled  by  the  gentle  drifting  of 
the  boat,  and  wrapt  in  the  delirium  of  oblivion 
arising  from  the  unimaginable  reality  of  the 
lady  of  my  dream,  unawares  I  fell  asleep. 


XVI 


And  when  I  awoke,  lo!  the  moon  was  stand- 
ing on  the  very  edge  of  the  western  sky,  and 
dawn  was  glimmering  in  the  east.  And  the 
Queen  was  gone!  And  I  leaped  out  of  the 
boat,  which  was  fastened  to  the  bank,  and 
ran  up  into  the  garden,  which  was  as  dark 
and  as  empty  of  anything  living  as  a  tomb. 
And  after  looking  for  her  a  long  time  in  vain, 
at  last  in  despair  I  went  away  to  the  door, 
and  knocked,  and  it  was  opened:  and  there 
stood,  not  the  pratihdri  but  Chaturika.  And 
I  said:  Chaturika,  what  has  become  of  the 
Queen?  And  she  said ,  with  emphasis:  Forget 
the  Queen,  and  remember  thy  father:  it  is 
time. 

And  I  started,  as  if  she  had  run  a  poisoned 
needle  into  my  ears;  for  I  had  utterly  forgot- 
ten all  about  him.  And  no  sooner  had  I  got 
out  of  the  palace  than  I  ran  all  the  way  home 
through  the  empty  streets.  And  I  found  my 
•  1 13 


ii4    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

horse  waiting,  and  I  sprang  on  him,  just  as  I 
was,  and  I  went  out  of  Kamalapura,  making 
for  the  desert  as  if  I  were  running  a  race  with 
the  god  of  death,  to  determine  which  of  us 
should  reach  my  father  first.  And  yet,  as  I 
rode,  I  was  thinking  all  the  time  of  one  thing 
only,  to  return,  quicker  even  than  I  went  away, 
and  listening  to  my  heart  that  sang  without 
ceasing,  Tarawali,  Tarawali,  as  if  keeping 
time  to  the  rattle  of  the  hoofs  of  the  horse. 
And  after  a  while  I  began  to  say :  If  I  am  to 
return,  it  will  have  to  be  on  another  horse: 
for  whatever  else  dies,  or  does  not  die,  this 
horse  will  die,  beyond  a  doubt,  either  at  the 
end  of  his  race,  or  it  may  be,  even  before. 

And  it  happened  as  I  said.  For  suddenly 
the  horse  fell,  to  rise  no  more,  while  yet  there 
was  far  to  go :  leaving  me  alone  in  the  desert, 
with  the  sun  right  over  my  head.  And  I 
exclaimed :  Alas !  out  upon  fate,  and  out  upon 
my  own  folly,  for  now  I  have  killed  my  horse, 
that  I  loved  better  than  my  own  soul !  Alas ! 
my  horse  was  like  my  good  fortune.  *  And  if 
I  had  only  started  in  the  night,   he  would 

1  Daiwatam  hi  hayottamah,  says  Somadewa:  a  good  horse  is  a 
divine  thing. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        115 

have  had  an  easy  journey,  going  slower  in 
the  cool  hours.  And  I  have  offered  my  horse 
a  sacrifice,  and  it  may  be  my  kingdom  also, 
to  my  deity  Tarawali.  And  yet,  what  does 
it  matter,  after  all?  Is  she  not  worth  all  the 
horses,  and  all  the  kingdoms  in  the  world? 
Aye !  I  would  give  them  all  for  another  sunset 
like  last  night,  with  the  lady  of  my  dream. 
But  what  is  to  be  done  now?  There  is  abso- 
lutely no  help  for  it,  and  I  must  finish  my 
journey  how  I  can,  going  slowly  on  my  own 
feet. 

And  as  I  said,  so  I  did :  and  so  it  came  about 
that,  faint  and  tired  and  overdone  by  hunger 
and  thirst  and  the  long  journey  and  the  fierce- 
ness of  the  desert  sun,  I  began  to  reach  my 
own  city  only  as  he  was  going  down.  And 
as  I  slowly  drew  near  it,  making  all  the  haste 
I  could,  suddenly  there  fell  on  my  ear  a  sound, 
coming  to  me  from  the  city,  that  smote  it 
like  a  blow.  And  I  stopped  short,  to  listen; 
and  all  the  hair  on  my  body  stood  erect.  And 
I  said  slowly  to  myself:  T  have  lost  the  race, 
after  all,  for  they  arc  wailing  in  the  city,  and 
it  can  be  for  one  thing  only,  that  it  is  widowed 
of   its   King.     Aye!  I    am   too  late.     And    I 


n6    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

have  killed  my  horse  for  nothing,  since  Death 
has  arrived  before  me,  after  all,  having  anni- 
hilated my  competition,  by  taking  my  horse 
upon  the  way.  And  I  have  reached  my  jour- 
ney's end,  just  in  time  to  hear  the  wailing,  as 
if  Death  were  jeering  at  me,  saying  as  it  were 
in  irony:  They  must  travel  very  fast  who 
think  to  outstrip  me. 

And  I  went  on  to  the  palace,  never  stopping 
at  the  gate  to  ask  what  I  already  knew.  And 
they  ran  to  warn  my  mother,  and  she  came 
out  of  the  women's  quarters,  and  stood  look- 
ing at  me  grimly,  covered  as  I  was  with  dust 
and  perspiration,  and  almost  ready  to  fall 
down  for  sheer  fatigue.  And  then  she  said: 
Fool!  thou  art  too  late,  and  thy  brother  has 
the  throne.  And  now  thou  art  little  better 
than  an  outcast,  and  hast  lost  thy  father,  and 
thy  crown,  and  me. 

And  I  looked  at  her,  and  I  said:  When  did 
the  King  die?     And  she  said:  Sunset. 

And  I  uttered  a  shout  of  laughter,  and  threw 
my  hands  into  the  air,  and  fell  at  her  feet  in 
a  swoon. 


XVII 

And  when  I  had  recovered  in  a  day  or  two, 
I  came,  so  to  say,  to  terms  with  my  loss  and 
my  condition:  saying  to  myself:  After  all, 
my  father  had  to  die,  whether  I  came  to  him 
in  time,  or  not:  and  I  could  not  have  saved 
his  life,  by  my  coming,  no  matter  when  I 
came.  And  so,  the  only  thing  I  lost,  by  com- 
ing late,  is  my  raj.  But  what  do  I  care  for 
any  raj,  which,  in  comparison  with  Tarawali, 
resembles  a  mere  pinch  of  dust,  thrown  into 
the  other  scale?  Away  with  the  miserable 
raj!  as  if  another  sunset  with  the  Queen 
would  not  be  cheaply  purchased  at  the  price 
of  all  the  kingdoms  in  the  world!  And  I 
passed  my  days  of  absence  in  doing  absolutely 
nothing  but  thinking  of  Tarawali,  and  waiting, 
with  a  soul  almost  unable  to  endure,  till  the 
moment  of  return.  And  I  sent  a  secret  mes- 
senger to  Kamalapura,  saying  to  him:  Go  to 
the  palace  gate,  and  ask  the  pratihdri  for  a 

117 


n8    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

cheti  called  Chaturika.  And  when  she  comes, 
tell  her  by  word  of  mouth,  so  that  nobody 
may  hear  thee  but  herself:  Greetings  to  the 
Queen  from  Shatrunjaya,  who  has  lost  his 
throne  on  her  account,  and  does  not  care. 
And  when  the  obsequies  are  over,  he  will 
return  to  Kamalapura,  on  the  night  before 
the  moon  is  full. 

And  having  sent  him  off,  I  waited,  while 
the  obsequies  went  slowly  on,  with  a  soul 
that  almost  parted  from  its  body  with  impa- 
tience for  an  answer  to  my  message  that 
might  help  me  to  keep  alive,  saying  to  myself: 
She  cannot  send  Chaturika,  as  she  did  before, 
since  it  is  too  far  off  for  anything  but  a  letter 
or  a  message,  which  will  have  to  do  instead. 
But  neither  a  letter  nor  a  message  ever  came: 
though  in  the  meanwhile,  my  messenger  re- 
turned with  empty  hands.  And  I  tortured 
him  with  questions,  but  all  he  had  to  say  was 
that  Chaturika  had  listened,  and  bidden  him 
to  go  away.  And  notwithstanding  my  bitter 
disappointment,  I  racked  my  brain  to  find 
excuses  for  them  both,  saying:  I  am  a  fool. 
How  could  I  expect  any  reply,  since  after  all 
I  never  put  a  question,  and  silence  was  the 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        119 

only  answer  to  be  given:  and  beyond  all 
doubt,  she  is  waiting  till  I  come?  And  is  it 
likely  that  she  would  trust  a  message  to  a  man 
she  did  not  know?  She  is  keeping  her  answer 
to  be  sent  in  the  form  of  a  summons  on  the 
eve  of  the  full  moon,  which  was  the  only 
answer  I  was  asking  for.  And  yet,  in  spite  of 
all  that  I  could  think  of  to  cool  the  fever  that 
burned  in  my  heart,  I  chafed  and  pined,  sick 
with  anxiety  and  disappointment,  and  longing 
in  vain  for  the  thing  that  never  came.  And 
I  said  sadly  to  myself:  Well,  only  too  well, 
she  knew,  that  the  very  shadow  of  a  sign 
of  any  kind,  from  her,  would  have  set  my 
heart  dancing  like  a  peacock  at  the  first 
symptom  of  the  coming  of  the  rain.  Or  can 
it  be,  after  all,  that  she  really  did  send 
an  answer,  which  has  somehow  or  other 
lost  its  way?  Aye!  no  doubt,  it  must  be 
so,  for  she  is  kind,  and  could  not  bear  to 
think  of  the  misery  she  knew  I  must  be  suf- 
fering every  moment  that  I  am  not  by  her 
side. 

And  so,  perforce,  I  waited,  gnawing  at  my 
own  heart,  until  at  last  the  funeral  ceremonies 
were  over.     And   instantly,   I   took   leave  of 


120    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

my  mother,  and  turned  my  back  on  my  rela- 
tions, and  set  off  at  a  gallop  for  Kamalapura 
with  my  heart  singing  for  delight,  like  an 
arrow  from  a  bow. 


XVIII 

And  I  reached  it,  exactly  as  I  said,  on  the 

eve  of  the  full  moon.     And  I  said  to  myself, 

with  exultation:  Ha!  to-morrow  night  it  will 

be  full,  and  red,  and  round,  exactly  as  it  was 

a  month  ago,   and  shining  as  it  did  before, 

upon  the  boat,  and  Tarawali,  and  me.     And 

at  the  thought,  I  laughed  aloud,  for  sheer  joy, 

and  came  to  my  own  door,  and  went  in.     And 

lo!  the  very  first  thing  that  I  saw,  when  I 

entered,  was  my  lute,  lying  on  the  floor  with 

a  broken  string,  and  looking  at  me,  as  it  were, 

with  reproach.     For  a  ray  of  moonlight  fell 

exactly  on  it  as  it  lay,  as  though  to  say:  See! 

the  moonlight  falls  not  alone  on  happy  lovers, 

but  on  those  that  arc  deserted !     And  my  heart 

smote  me,  as  I  looked  at  it,  and  I  exclaimed: 

Alas!  my  old  Love,  thou  art  indeed  discarded 

for  another;  for  I  have  not  given  thee  a  single 

thought,    ever   since    1    saw    her   first.      Bitter 

indeed  must  be  the  sorrow  of  one  that  is  cast, 

121 


122     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

like  thyself,  aside!  And  then,  I  threw  myself 
upon  my  bed,  forgetting  instantly  my  lute 
and  every  other  thing  in  the  delight  of  the 
anticipation  of  the  coming  day.  And  I  slept 
all  night,  floating  as  it  were  on  a  dark  wave 
of  the  ocean  of  sweet  expectation,  and  smiling, 
so  to  say,  in  my  sleep. 

And  when  morning  came,  I  arose,  and  went 
to  and  fro,  singing  aloud  for  joy,  and  saying 
to  myself:  Now  the  moment  of  reunion  ap- 
proaches, and  the  miserable  fever  of  separa- 
tion is  nearing  its  end,  for  the  sun  has  arisen 
and  is  rushing  to  his  home  in  the  western 
mountain,  and  his  race  and  my  desolation, 
will  finish  exactly  together.  And  now,  Chatu- 
rika  is  on  her  way,  and  will  soon  be  here,  look- 
ing like  the  dawn  of  my  delight  in  a  delicious 
feminine  form.  And  she  will  look  at  me  with 
her  laughing  eyes,  and  murmur,  Sunset, 
exactly  as  before:  and  exactly  as  before,  I 
shall  kiss  her,  and  send  her  back  to  the  Queen. 
And  so  I  waited  eagerly,  on  the  very  tiptoe  of 
expectation,  with  my  eyes  fixed  upon  the  door. 
But  day  slowly  travelled  on,  and  yet  she  never 
came.  And  little  by  little,  my  delight  slowly 
turned  into  perplexity,   and  anxiety,   till  at 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        123 

last,  as  hour  succeeded  hour,  each  longer  than 
a  yuga,  my  heart  began  to  sink,  lower  and 
lower  still,  and  I  became  actually  sick  with 
the  agony  of  my  disappointment.  For  the 
sun  was  indeed  rushing  down  into  the  night, 
and  yet  she  never  came.  And  time  after  time, 
I  went  to  the  door,  and  opened  it,  and  looked 
out,  but  no  Chaturika  was  there,  and  nothing 
was  to  be  seen  but  the  people  in  the  street. 

And  when  at  last  night  actually  fell,  and 
found  me  still  waiting,  I  could  endure  no  long- 
er, but  I  threw  myself  upon  my  bed,  and  lay 
in  a  stupor  in  the  dark,  abandoning  all  hope, 
and  on  the  very  verge  of  crying  like  a  child. 
And  I  said  to  myself:  Is  she  ill,  or  is  she  dead, 
or  has  she  gone  away,  or  what  on  earth  can 
be  the  matter?  Or  can  it  be,  after  all,  that 
my  messenger  played  me  false,  and  never 
went?  For  if  she  really  got  my  message,  long 
ago  she  would  surely  have  sent  Chaturika  to 
summon  me,  knowing  that  it  was  impossible 
for  me  to  come  of  my  own  accord,  and  that 
I  should  be  sitting  waiting  with  my  heart  on 
fire  for  her  summons  to  arrive.  And  so  I 
lay,  tossing  all  night  long  sleepless  on  my  bed, 
and  cursing  the  moon,  which  poured  as  if  to 


124    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

mock  me  a  silver  flood  of  light  upon  the  floor, 
seeming  to  say:  Think  what  a  night  it  must 
be  in  the  garden!  until  in  an  agony  of  remi- 
niscence and  humiliation,  I  turned  my  back 
to  it,  and  lay  with  my  face  to  the  wall.  And 
when  at  last  day  returned,  I  arose  and  sat, 
in  deep  dejection,  worn  out,  and  at  my  wits' 
very  end,  never  even  daring  to  look  towards 
the  door,  which  remained  obstinately  shut. 
And  all  day  long  I  sat  still  in  a  kind  of  dream, 
neither  eating  nor  drinking,  and  hopelessly 
waiting  still.  And  at  last  once  more  the  sun 
went  down,  after  a  day  that  was  longer  than 
a  year,  leaving  me  lying  in  the  dark. 

And  I  know  not  how  I  got  through  the  night, 
which  I  shudder  even  to  remember ;  but  when 
morning  came,  I  was  within  a  very  little  of 
being  mad.  And  burning  with  fever,  hot  and 
cold  by  turns,  for  sheer  impotence  I  got  up 
and  went  out,  and  wandered  up  and  down  the 
streets,  till  at  last  for  weariness  I  was  obliged 
to  return,  though  the  thought  of  my  deserted 
house  was  almost  more  horrible  than  death. 
And  all  at  once,  I  looked  up,  and  lo!  there 
was  Chaturika  herself,  coming  towards  me 
in  the  street. 


XIX 

And  at  the  sight  of  her  my  heart  leaped 
into  my  mouth,  for  she  resembled  the  very 
last  link  that  joined  me  to  the  Queen,  in  a 
feminine  form.  But  at  the  very  moment  that 
I  saw  her,  she  saw  me  also;  and  she  turned 
away,  pretending  not  to  see  me,  and  went 
round  the  corner  into  another  street.  And 
instantly,  I  leaped  after  her  like  a  deer,  and 
caught  her,  almost  running  to  escape  me. 
And  then,  seeing  that  there  was  absolutely 
no  help  for  it,  she  stopped,  and  stood  looking 
at  me  with  defiance,  like  an  animal  at  bay. 

And  presently  I  said:  Dost  thou  not  know 
me,  that  thou  runnest  so  fast  to  get  away? 
And  she  said:  I  never  saw  thee:  I  was  only 
in  a  hurry.  And  I  said:  Now,  from  bad,  it  is 
worse:  thou  art  lying.  And  why,  instead  of 
running  away,  art  thou  not  rather  hastening 
to  meet  me?  Hast  thou  no  message  for  me 
from  the  Queen?     And   she  said:  No:  none. 

'25 


126    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

And  I  exclaimed:  What!  none?  Did  not  my 
message  come  to  thee?  And  she  said,  reluct- 
antly :  It  came.  Then  I  said :  Then  the  Queen 
must  know  that  I  am  here.  And  why  has 
she  never  sent?  And  Chaturika  said:  Is  it 
for  me  to  give  orders  to  the  Queen?  How  can 
I  know  why  she  does  not  want  thy  presence? 
If  she  did,  she  would  send.  I  am  not  the 
mistress,  but  only  the  maid:  is  Chaturika 
the  equal  of  Tarawali? 

And  as  she  spoke,  the  tears  rose  into  my 
eyes,  for  I  remembered  the  words  of  Tarawali 
as  she  stood  up  in  the  boat.  And  I  took  her 
by  the  hand,  and  looked  into  her  eyes.  And 
I  said  slowly:  Thou  knowest  only  too  well, 
for  if  thou  art  not  her  equal,  thou  art  at  least 
her  familiar.  And  now,  then,  cheat  me  not: 
since  the  matter  is  to  me  one  of  life  or  death. 
Am  I  thy  enemy,  or  art  thou  mine?  Was  it 
not  only  the  other  day  that  thou  didst  kiss 
me  of  thy  own  accord,  as  I  have  sat,  these 
last  two  days,  hoping  against  hope  for  thee 
to  come  and  do  again?  And  what  have  I 
done,  to  bring  about  such  change?  I  liked 
thee  better,  far  better,  laughing:  thou  wert 
so  joyous,  and  so  pretty,  and  like  the  ecstasy 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        127 

in  my  own  heart,  in  a  woman's  form.     Aye! 
as  I  looked  at  thee,  it  made  my  heart  echo,  to 
hear  thee  laugh,   since  we  were  both  of  us 
devotees  of  one  and  the  same  deity,  Tarawali, 
thy  Queen  and  mine.     And  now,  something 
has  come  about,  I  know  not  how,  to  spoil  it  all. 
And  as  I  spoke,  all  unconsciously,  I  gripped 
the  hand  that  I  held  of  hers  in  mine,  and  it 
may  be  that  my  hand  whispered  to  her  own 
what  my  voice  strove  in  vain  to  say.     For 
as  I  gazed  at  her  in  anguish,  with  tears  in 
my  eyes,  strange!  all  at  once  I  saw  her  face 
change,  and  her  lip  quiver,  and  tears  stealing, 
as  if  against  her  will,  into  her  eyes  too.     And 
she  tried  to  laugh,  without  succeeding:  and 
all  at  once,  she  squeezed  my  hand  that  held 
her  own,  with  force.     And  she  said,  in  a  voice 
that  trembled  as  it  spoke,  half  laughing  and 
half  weeping:  Nectar  when  she  turns  towards 
thee:  poison    when    she    turns    away.     And 
suddenly  she  snatched  her  hand  away  from 
mine,  and  turned  as  if  to  go. 

And  I  took  her  by  the  shoulder  as  she  stood 
with  her  face  averted,  and  I  said:  See,  Chatu- 
rika,  my  life  is  in  thy  hands.  Come,  do  me 
this  last  favour,  and  I  will  never  trouble  thee 


128     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

any  more.  Wilt  thou  go  straight  to  the  Queen 
and  say  I  met  thee  in  the  street,  and  somehow 
or  other,  by  hook  or  crook,  contrive  that  she 
shall  send  for  me  again,  and  very  soon,  for 
otherwise  I  cannot  live  much  longer?  Wilt 
thou?  Wilt  thou?  And  she  hung  her  head, 
and  said  in  a  voice  so  low  that  I  could  hardly 
hear  it:  I  will  try.  And  I  said:  Go  then,  for 
I  will  delay  thee  no  longer.  And  yet,  listen! 
Come  to  me  often,  as  thou  art  passing  by,  for 
the  very  sight  of  thee  is  life. 

And  without  speaking,  she  rolled  her  head 
up  in  her  veil,  and  went  away  very  quickly. 
And  I  stood,  looking  after  her  as  she  went, 
saying  to  myself:  There  goes  my  last  hope. 
And  lucky  for  me  it  was  that  I  caught  her: 
for  without  her,  I  would  by  this  have  driven 
my  own  sword  home  into  my  heart. 


XX 


And  I  went  home  feeling  like  a  man  saved 
from  the  very  mouth  of  death,  saying  to  my* 
self:  Now  then,  happen  what  will!  for  at  least 
I  have  secured  the  key  of  the  door  leading  to 
Tarawali,  in  the  form  of  her  maid.  And  now, 
it  may  be,  I  shall  see  her  very  soon.  For 
beyond  a  doubt,  there  has  been  some  blunder, 
or  perhaps  she  was  occupied  with  business  of 
moment,  that  left  her  no  leisure  for  affairs  like 
mine.  And  all  my  fears  may  have  been  in 
vain.  And  at  least,  I  can  wait  with  hope, 
and  not  as  I  did  before,  in  horrible  despair, 
cut  off  from  every  means  of  communication. 
And  I  sat  with  a  heart  almost  at  peace,  pre- 
pared to  wait  till  the  coming  of  Chaturika 
on  the  following  day.  But  it  turned  out 
contrary  to  my  expectation.  For  I  had  been 
waiting  for  little  more  than  a  single  hour, 
when  there  came  B  knock  at  the  door.  And 
when  I  opened,  there  stood  ( 'haturiki'i  again. 
*  129 


130     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

And  she  said  rapidly:  The  Queen  will  await 
thee  in  the  garden  to-night  at  sunset. 

And  I  exclaimed,  with  a  shout  of  joy:  Ha! 
sunset !  It  is  as  I  thought.  Well  I  knew  there 
was  some  mistake,  and  that  she  could  not  fail. 
And  beyond  a  doubt,  she  had  forgotten  the 
time,  remembering  only  when  reminded  by 
thee.  Victory  to  thee,  0  Chaturika!  for  to 
thee  alone  I  owe  the  sunset,  and  now  I  will 
give  thee  for  it  almost  anything  thou  canst 
ask.  And  Chaturika  said:  Give  me  nothing. 
And  she  stood  in  silence,  looking  at  me  with 
strange  eyes,  in  which,  as  it  seemed,  pity  and 
curiosity  seemed  to  be  mingled  with  compunc- 
tion and  some  element  that  I  could  not  under- 
stand. And  suddenly  she  came  to  me,  and 
laid  her  hand  upon  my  arm.  And  she  whis- 
pered very  quickly,  as  if  she  was  half  afraid 
of  what  she  said:  Do  not  go.  And  then  she 
turned  and  vanished  from  the  room,  as  if  to 
escape  before  I  had  time  to  ask  for  explanation. 

And  I  said  to  myself,  looking  after  her  in 
wonder:  What!  do  not  go?  So  then,  as  it 
seems,  there  will  be  danger.  But  little  does 
she  know  me,  if  she  thinks  that  any  danger 
would  keep  me  from  the  Queen.     And  indeed, 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        131 

in  the  garden  there  is  room  for  any  number  of 
assassins,  if  Narasinha  or  anybody  else  were 
jealous  of  my  visiting  Tarawali.  Danger! 
And  I  laughed  in  derision,  that  was  mixed  with 
intoxication,  as  if  the  very  notion  of  danger 
from  a  rival  added,  somehow  or  other,  to  the 
sweetness  of  anticipation,  by  stamping  me  as  a 
claimant  to  the  affection  of  Tarawali  wTho  was 
greatly  to  be  feared.  And  all  at  once,  light 
broke  in,  as  it  were,  upon  my  soul.  And  I 
cried  out  in  ecstasy:  Danger!  Ha!  at  last, 
all  the  mystery  is  solved.  It  was  danger  that 
prevented  my  Tarawali  from  sendirig  me  any 
message  or  bidding  me  to  come.  And  all  the 
while  she  knew  it,  and  she  had  to  be  very 
careful,  fearing  for  my  life.  And  suddenly  I 
struck  my  hands  together,  and  I  cried:  Ha! 
what  a  fool  I  am!  Why,  she  told  me  so  her- 
self, when  T  saw  her  for  the  second  time,  and 
yet  I  had  forgotten  it.  And  all  this  while, 
in  the  peevishness  of  my  own  oblivion  and  pre- 
sumption, I  have  been  blaming  her,  expect- 
ing things  iitterly  unreasonable,  and  loading 
hrr  extraordinary  sweetness  with  miserable 
suspicions  arising  from  my  own  imagination, 
and  the  blindness  of  my  insatiable  passion. 


132     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

Ah!  Tarawali,  forgive  me  if  I  wronged  thee! 
But  I  will  make  it  up  to  thee  to-night,  and 
beg  for  thy  divine  forgiveness  at  thy  feet. 
And  all  this  hesitation  was  all  the  while  only 
on  my  account :  and  yet,  brute  that  I  was !  I 
never  guessed  it,  till  Chaturika  gave  me,  as 
it  were,  a  hint,  and  put  me  upon  the  scent. 
And  what  else  was  her  delay  but  an  irrefu- 
table proof  of  her  affection,  showing  that  she 
chose  even  to  allow  herself  to  be  misinter- 
preted rather  than  let  me  run  on  her  account 
into  the  danger  that  she  knew. 

And  instantly  all  the  clouds  of  darkness 
and  desolation  rolled  away  in  a  body  from 
my  soul,  leaving  it  bathing  in  the  ruddy  glow 
of  sunset,  and  passion,  and  emotion,  exactly 
as  it  was  before.  And  I  waited,  plunged  in 
the  ecstasy  of  reminiscence  and  anticipation, 
till  at  last  the  sun  began  to  sink.  And  then, 
once  more  I  went,  on  feet  dancing  with  agita- 
tion and  delight,  to  the  palace  gates,  and  saw 
the  pratihdri  standing  waiting  as  before.  And 
as  I  entered,  never  doubting  that  she  had 
instructions  of  my  coming,  she  barred  the 
way,  saying:  What  is  thy  business?  And  I 
said :  I  have  come  by  appointment  to  see  the 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        133 

Queen.  Then  said  the  pratihdri:  Thou  must 
come  another  time,  for  the  Queen  is  not  here. 

And  I  stopped  short,  as  if  she  had  suddenly 
run  a  dagger  into  my  heart.  And  I  said  in  a 
low  voice:  Not  here?  It  cannot  be.  Thou 
art  mistaken.  And  the  pratihdri  said:  There 
is  no  mistake  at  all.  She  is  gone.  And  I 
said:  Gone?  Where?  When?  And  she  said: 
She  went  within  this  hour,  to  visit  her  mater- 
nal uncle;  for  want,  as  I  think,  of  something 
better  to  do.  And  when  she  will  return,  I 
cannot  say. 

And  then,  my  heart  stopped.  And  I  stood 
for  a  single  instant,  erect,  and  I  turned,  as  if 
to  go  away.  And  all  at  once,  there  came,  from 
the  very  middle  of  my  heart,  a  cry,  that  tore 
me  as  it  were  to  pieces,  and  I  fell  in  the  street 
like  a  dead  man. 


XXI 

And  when  I  came  back  to  myself,  I  looked, 
and  saw  an  old  man  with  a  long  white  beard 
gazing  at  me  with  anxiety,  sitting  by  my  bed 
in  which  I  was  lying,  having  been  brought 
home  I  know  not  how  as  I  lay  in  a  swoon. 
And  when  he  saw  me  look  at  him,  he  began 
to  rub  his  hands  together,  with  a  little  laugh. 
And  he  said:  Ha!  then,  as  it  seems,  after  all, 
thy  soul  has  returned  at  last :  and  it  was  time. 
For  it  had  been  away  so  long  that  I  was  be- 
ginning to  doubt  whether  it  had  not  said  good- 
bye to  thy  body,  for  good  and  all.  And  now 
it  has  come  back  after  all,  by  the  favour  of 
Ganapati,  and  the  help  of  the  Ayurweda,  and 
one  of  Dhanwantari's1  most  unworthy  devo- 
tees. And  I  said  slowly:  How  long  have  I 
been  dead?  Then  said  that  old  physician: 
It  is  now  nearly  sunset  again,  and  thou  hast 
lain  there  without  moving  ever  since  they 

1  The  Hindoo  ^sculapius.     Ayurweda,  the  science  of  medicine. 

134 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        135 

brought  thee  here  from  the  street,  about  the 
time  of  sunset,  yesterday.  And  now  what  is 
it,  that  hast  struck  thee  down,  as  if  by  a 
thunderbolt?  For  how  can  the  physician 
cure,  unless  the  patient  tells  him  of  his  case? 

And  I  closed  my  eyes  for  a  while,  as  if  to 
rest :  and  after  a  while  I  said :  O  father,  there 
is  nothing  to  tell,  to  one  of  thy  experience  and 
skill:  for  since  childhood,  it  happens  to  me, 
every  now  and  then,  to  fall  down  and  lie  in  a 
trance:  and  when  once  I  come  back,  all  is 
over,  and  I  go  on  as  before,  till  next  time. 
And  now  there  is  nothing  to  be  done,  but  for 
me  to  reward  thee  for  thy  care,  to  which  I  owe 
my  life.  And  though  it  is  a  thing  of  little  or 
no  worth,  I  will  count  it,  for  thy  sake,  as  if  it 
were  a  thing  of  price.  And  I  gave  that  old 
man  gold,  and  sent  him  away  delighted,  for 
all  I  wanted  was  to  be  rid  of  him  as  quickly 
as  I  could,  lest  I  should  fall  into  a  fever  and 
begin  to  rave,  and  betray  my  secret  against 
my  will. 

And  then  for  many  days,  I  lay,  living  very 
slowly,  like  one  in  a  long  dream,  drinking 
water,  and  eating  almost  nothing,  and  going 
over  in  my  mind  every  detail  of  my  life  since 


136    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

first  I  saw  the  Queen.  And  it  seemed  to  me, 
as  I  mused,  as  if  I  had  died  long  ago;  and 
everything  appeared  to  me  like  something  that 
had  happened  long  ago,  to  some  other  than 
myself.  And  day  very  slowly  followed  day, 
and  life  came  back  to  me  as  it  were  with  hesi- 
tating steps,  as  though  it  knew  that  it  was 
coming  to  one  that  scarcely  cared  to  bid  it 
welcome.  And  then  at  last  there  came  a  day 
when  I  looked  about  with  curiosity  to  see  what 
might  be  seen,  and  lo!  there  in  a  corner  lay 
my  lute  upon  the  floor. 

So,  after  a  while,  I  said:  Lute,  canst  thou 
tell  me,  how  it  feels  to  be  discarded?  And  I 
went  and  took  it  up,  and  strung  it,  and  began 
to  play.  And  as  fate  would  have  it,  there 
came  over  the  strings  as  I  touched  them  a 
sadness  like  my  own,  that  seemed  to  say: 
Come,  we  are  fellow-sufferers,  and  now  let  us 
weep  together,  since  there  is  absolutely  nothing 
else  to  do.  And  suddenly  the  lute  fell  from 
my  hands  of  its  own  accord,  and  I  fell  with  it 
upon  the  floor.  And  I  wept,  as  if  my  very 
soul  was  about  to  abandon  my  body,  for  sheer 
despair.  And  as  I  wept,  I  came  slowly  back 
to  the  self  I  was  before;  yet  so,  that  the  half 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        137 

of  me  was  left  behind,  and  lost  for  ever.  And 
I  said  to  myself:  I  have  been  robbed  by 
Tarawali  of  all  that  was  worth  anything  in  my 
soul,  and  it  only  remains  to  consider,  what  is 
the  next  thing  to  be  done. 

And  that  very  evening,  I  went  out  of  my 
house  for  the  first  time  since  I  fell  down.  And 
avoiding  the  streets,  I  wandered  along  by 
bypaths,  till  I  reached  the  river  bank.  And  I 
hid  myself  in  the  bushes,  and  lay  watching 
the  sun  go  down  across  the  river,  and  thinking 
of  Tarawali  and  her  pool  till  unawares  I  went 
to  sleep.  And  how  long  I  slept  I  know  not, 
but  I  woke  suddenly  in  the  night,  roused  by 
the  voices  of  two  that  were  talking  close 
beside  me,  not  knowing  there  was  any  one 
by,  to  overhear.  And  as  I  listened  carelessly 
without  curiosity,  all  at  once  there  fell  on  my 
ear  the  name  of  Narasinha. 

And  instantly  I  crawled,  like  a  panther, 
little  by  little,  nearer  to  those  two  talkers, 
until  T  could  easily  hear  everything  they  said. 
And  one  was  saying  to  the  other:  It  will  be 
very  easy,  and  the  reward  is  very  large.  Then 
the  other  said:  But  why  docs  Narasinha  want 
to  have  him  slain  at  all?     And  the  first  voice 


138    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

answered:  What  a  question?  Any  one  can  see 
that  thou  art  a  stranger  to  this  city.  Dost 
thou  not  know  that  he  is  the  lover  of  the 
Queen,  aye!  and  so,  that  she  is  more  than  his 
life?  And  yet,  for  all  that,  he  cannot  keep 
her  to  himself,  since  she  is  not  only  a  Queen, 
and  above  all  his  controlling,  but  also  a  lady 
of  many  lovers,  roaming  like  a  bee,  from  flower 
to  flower,  as  she  will,  and  yet  leaving  each  in 
the  lurch  almost  as  soon  as  it  is  tasted,  being 
as  unsteady  as  the  flame  of  a  lamp  in  the  wind, 
and  as  deep  and  as  crooked  as  a  river,  amusing 
herself  as  if  she  were  a  female  trinamani1  by 
watching  the  irresistible  effect  of  her  own 
attraction  on  the  straws  that  she  finds  and 
throws  away,  as  soon  as  she  has  tested  them, 
regardless  of  what  afterwards  becomes  of  them, 
since  they  are  then  absolutely  useless,  resem- 
bling mere  husks,  whose  kernel  she  has  eaten. 
And  if  he  could  bear  to  do  without  her,  Nara- 
sinha  would  slay  her  out  of  jealousy  with  his 
own  hands:  but  as  it  is,  he  cannot,  however 
much  she  laughs  in  his  face.  And  so  he  repays 
himself  by  wreaking  his  vengeance  on  her 

1  A  gem  that  attracts  straws,  presumably  amber.     It  is  always 
employed  by  Hindoo  poets  as  an  equivalent  of  our  magnets. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        139 

lovers,  in  lieu  of  herself:  and  one  by  one,  they 
all  pay  the  penalty  of  their  presumption,  in 
having  anything  to  do  with  her,  with  their 
lives:  giving  him  hard  work  to  do,  since  she 
finds  and  easts  off  a  new  lover  almost  every 
day.  And  of  all,  the  only  one  that  has  escaped 
is  Shatrunjaya,  the  mad  player,  who  lost  his 
reason  altogether  when  he  found  himself  cast 
adrift  without  knowing  why:  and  was  accord- 
ingly passed  over  by  Narasinha,  as  not  even 
needing  to  be  killed,  since  he  was  as  good 
as  dead  already,  and  beyond  the  reach  of 
revenge. 

And  the  second  voice  said:  What  a  fool 
must  this  Shatrunjaya  have  been,  to  go  mad, 
over  such  an  abhisarikd  as  this  Queen!  Then 
said  the  first  with  emphasis:  Thou  art  thyself 
the  fool,  speaking  at  random  without  ever 
having  seen  her:  for  she  is  a  very  Shri,  laugh- 
ing all  the  other  women  to  utter  scorn;  and 
small  wonder  that  he  fell  a  victim  to  such  a 
spell,  being  as  he  is  very  young.  And  more- 
over, she  is  the  cleverest  woman  in  the  three 
worlds,  and  easily  persuades  every  lover  that 
she  is  doing  as  he  wishes  to  oblige  him,  and  not 
as  is  really  the  ease  making  him  a  puppet  of 


140    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

her  own.  And  not  one  of  them  all  ever  even 
knows  of  the  existence  of  any  other  lover  than 
himself.  And  Shatrunjaya  is  all  the  more  to 
be  excused,  because  she  really  took  a  momen- 
tary fancy  to  him,  and  cloyed  him  for  a  day 
or  two  with  nectar  that  soon  turned  poison, 
as  Chaturika  says. 

And  the  second  voice  said:  Who  is  Chatu- 
rika? And  the  first  replied:  She  is  the  niece 
of  my  cousin  on  the  mother's  side,  and  she 
tells  me  all.  And  Tarawali  took  her  for  a 
confidential  cheti  on  account  of  her  cleverness 
and  beauty:  as  well  she  might,  since  the  little 
jade  is  very  pretty,  and  clever  enough  to  be 
prime  minister  to  any  king.  And  between 
the  two  of  them,  who  are  more  than  a  match 
for  any  man  that  ever  lived,  Shatrunjaya  had 
no  chance  at  all.  Little  did  he  know  Tarawali, 
thinking  to  keep  her  beauty  to  himself,  or 
confine  the  ocean  of  her  charms  to  a  tank! 
Poor  fool!  what  a  trick  they  played  him! 
For  Chaturika  says  that  Tarawali  gave  an- 
other lover  the  very  rendezvous  she  fixed  for 
him,  bidding  her  pratihdri  say  she  was  gone. 
Well  he  might  go  mad,  for  as  I  think,  any 
other  man  might  lose  his  reason,  to  be  kept 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        141 

standing  outside  the  door,  while  his  mistress 
was  kissing  another  man? 

And  he  laughed  out  loud,  as  he  ended:  but 
I  rose  up  from  the  ground,  drawing  my  kattdri 
from  its  sheath.  And  I  leaped  out  of  the 
bushes  suddenly  upon  those  two  laughers, 
who  took  me  for  a  ghost  in  the  form  of  the 
god  of  death.  And  I  struck  at  one  with  the 
knife,  and  as  luck  would  have  it,  I  all  but 
severed  his  head  from  his  body  at  a  single 
sweep.  And  I  turned  upon  the  other  as  he 
stood  terror  stricken,  staring  at  me  with  open 
mouth,  and  I  said:  Thy  jest  was  very  good, 
but  mine  is  better  still.  I  am  Shatrunjaya, 
and  not  mad  after  all :  but  thou  shalt  not  tell 
my  secret  to  Narasinha,  whom  I  will  send 
after  thee  in  good  time.  And  I  struck  the 
knife  into  his  eye  so  hard  that  I  could  scarcely 
pull  it  out  again  by  putting  my  foot  upon  his 
head. 

And  I  left  them  lying,  and  went  home 
quickly,  laughing  to  myself,  and  saying: 
Now  they  are  paid  beforehand,  with  their 
work  still  to  do,  in  coin  very  different  from 
that  of  Narasinha.  And  his  own  turn  will 
come   by  and   by.     And  I  wonder  whose  life 


H2    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

I  have  saved,  for  I  never  caught  his  name. 
But  no  matter:  I  have  learned  what  is  left 
for  me  to  do:  and  it  only  remains  to  determine 
on  the  way.  Alas!  Narasinha,  thy  star  is 
beginning  to  decline.  Thou  hast  just  lost 
thy  assassins,  and  presently  I  will  deprive 
thee  of  Tarawali,  and  last,  I  will  rob  thee  of 
thy  life. 


XXII 

And  then,  day  by  day,  I  rose  early  in  the 
morning,  and  ate  the  breakfast  of  a  bull- 
elephant,  and  went  out  into  the  streets,  hunt- 
ing, not  for  a  forest  beast,  but  for  a  human 
quarry.  And  I  roamed  up  and  down  through 
the  city  all  day  long,  examining  everything 
I  met  that  had  the  shape  of  a  woman  with  the 
eye  of  a  hunting  leopard.  And  so  I  continued 
day  after  day,  without  success.  And  then 
at  last,  on  the  night  of  the  Dipawali,  when 
the  streets  were  full  of  people,  suddenly  I  saw 
her  coming  straight  towards  me.  But  she 
never  saw  me,  by  reason  of  the  crowd:  and 
the  prey  is  not  thinking  of  the  hunter,  when 
the  hunter  is  thinking  of  the  prey.  And  I  hid 
myself  in  a  doorway,  and  let  her  pass  by; 
and  I  fr>ll owed  her  with  stealthy  steps  until 
at  last  she  turned  away  into  a  narrow  lane 
that  resembled  the  jaws  of  death.  And  I 
caught  her  up  with  silent  tread,  and  all  at 

143 


144    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

once  I  took  her  by  the  wrist  as  she  went,  with 
a  grip  like  an  iron  band. 

And  she  turned  and  saw  me,  and  she  started, 
and  uttered  a  faint  cry.  And  instantly  I  said: 
Cry  out,  even  once,  and  I  will  sever  thy  head 
from  its  body.  Make  absolutely  no  noise, 
and  I  will  do  thee  absolutely  no  harm.  But 
come  with  me,  for  I  need  thee  for  a  little  while. 
I  have  been  at  pains  to  find  thee,  and  now  I 
will  not  let  thee  go.  But  unless  thou  dost 
exactly  as  I  tell  thee,  I  will  treat  thee  as  I 
did  thy  accomplice  on  the  river  bank,  a  little 
while  ago.  And  she  turned  a  little  paler  as 
she  listened,  understanding  that  I  did  not 
speak  in  jest.  And  I  said:  Go  on  before  me, 
in  silence,  to  my  house,  for  well  thou  art 
acquainted  with  the  way.  And  I  will  follow, 
just  behind,  and  if  thou  makest,  as  thou  goest, 
so  much  as  a  sign,  thy  head  will  roll  from  its 
shoulders  on  the  instant.  And  she  bowed  her 
head  and  went.  And  when  we  reached  the 
door,  I  opened  it  and  we  went  in.  And  I 
shut  the  door,  and  there  was  no  other  light 
than  the  moonlight,  which  fell  in  a  flood  upon 
the  floor.  And  I  said:  Sit  there  in  the  moon- 
light, for  I  have  something  to  say  to  thee. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        H5 

And  she  sat  upon  the  floor,  watching  me  with 
fascination  like  a  bird  before  a  snake. 

And  I  walked  to  and  fro  before  her,  and 
suddenly  I  stopped,  and  I  said:  Tell  me,  O 
Chaturika,  what  would  the  Queen  say,  if  I 
told  her  of  thy  habit  of  babbling  to  thy  rela- 
tions of  her  secrets?  And  for  answer,  Chatu- 
rika began  to  sob,  grovelling  upon  the  floor 
at  my  feet.  And  I  said :  Sit  still,  thou  little 
fool,  and  listen:  for  thou  shalt  earn  my  for- 
giveness by  doing  as  I  bid  thee:  and  if  not, 
I  will  save  the  Queen  trouble  by  becoming 
thy  executioner  myself.  To-morrow  night, 
I  must  see  her  in  the  garden  as  before:  and  it 
can  only  be  by  thy  contrivance.  And  now 
how  is  it  to  be  done? 

And  Chaturika  said  weeping:  To-morrow 
night  it  cannot  be,  since  she  has  given  that 
evening  to  another.  And  moreover,  for  thee 
every  night  is  equally  impossible,  for  she  will 
not  see  thee  any  more.  And  how  canst  thou 
pass  the  pmtiluiri,  or  enter  by  the  door,  with- 
out her  permission?  And  now  between  the 
Queen  and  thee,  I  am  in  the  jaws  of  death. 
For  thou  wilt  slay  me,  if  T  do  not  find  the 
entrance  into  the  garden:  and  she  will,  if  T  do. 


IO 


H6    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

And  I  looked  at  her  with  scrutiny  and  I 
said:  I  will  help  thee  out  of  jeopardy.  There 
must  be  another  entrance  to  the  garden.  Is 
there  no  other  door?  And  she  said  unwillingly : 
There  is,  but  none  can  enter  from  without, 
unless  he  has  the  key,  which  the  Queen  trusts 
to  no  custody  but  her  own. 

And  I  said :  Then  the  way  is  found,  luckily 
for  thee:  and  thou  art  saved,  since  none  will 
ever  guess  thy  part  in  the  arranging  for  my 
entry,  if  as  I  imagine  thou  art  only  sufficiently 
adroit  to  procure  for  me  a  key  without  her 
knowledge.  And  that  I  leave  to  thee,  only  be 
careful  to  bring  it  in  good  time,  before  to- 
morrow evening.  And  in  the  meanwhile,  go 
and  tell  that  other  lover  that  the  Queen  has 
changed  her  mind:  and  put  him  off  to  any 
other  day,  it  does  not  matter  which,  seeing 
that  it  will  never  come  at  all:  since  for  the 
future,  I  am  going  to  be  the  only  lover  of  the 
Queen. 

And  then,  Chaturika  looked  at  me  in  such 
amazement  that  it  deprived  her  for  an  instant 
of  her  terror,  and  suddenly  she  began  to  laugh. 
And  I  stooped  and  lifted  her,  and  whirled  her 
in  the  air,  and  stood  her  breathless  on  her  feet. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        H7 

And  I  took  her  two  hands  and  held  them 
tight,  and  I  said:  Dost  thou  feel  what  thou 
art  in  hands  like  mine,  a  feather,  and  a  no- 
thing, and  a  straw?  Now  listen  and  be  wise. 
Stand  out  of  the  way,  between  the  Queen 
and  me,  for  we  shall  crush  thee,  and  the  battle 
is  one  that  I  mean  to  win.  And  now  I  am 
going  to  show  her  something  that  she  never 
saw  before,  the  strength  of  a  man:  for  a  woman 
presumes,  forgetting  altogether  that  she  owes 
all  to  the  forbearance  of  one  who  can  sweep 
her  away  if  he  chooses,  like  a  wild  elephant 
snapping  a  twig.  And  if  anything  goes  amiss 
by  any  treachery  of  thine,  I  will  break  thee 
in  pieces  with  my  bare  hands,  hide  where 
thou  wilt,  making  it  unnecessary  even  to 
betray  thee  to  the  Queen.  And  now,  what 
have  I  ordered  thee  to  do? 

And  Chaturika  said  humbly,  quivering  like 
a  wild  heifer  that  is  suddenly  tamed  by  the 
sound  of  a  tiger's  roar:  To  put  off  a  lover 
and  bring  thee  a  key. 

And  I  said:  Thou  hast  still  forgotten  the 
thing  without  which  both  are  useless,  and  that 
is,  to  show  me  the  outside  of  the  door  to  be 
opened  by  the  key.     And  that  thou  shalt  do 


H8     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

at  once.  Go  out  now,  and  walk  without 
stopping  straight  to  the  door:  and  I  will  fol- 
low in  thy  steps.  And  do  not  look  back, 
until  thou  art  standing  just  beside  it,  and 
then  turn  for  a  single  instant,  and  meet  my 
eye  without  a  sign.  And  then  begone  where 
thou  wilt  until  to-morrow. 

And  I  opened  the  door  and  let  her  out, 
and  she  went  away  very  quickly,  leading  me 
through  the  city  and  past  the  palace  gates, 
and  a  long  way  round  the  palace  wall,  until 
at  last  she  suddenly  came  to  a  dead  stop, 
beside  a  little  door  in  the  wall,  that  stood 
exactly  opposite  a  ruined  temple  of  the  great 
god.  And  there  she  turned  and  looked  at  me, 
and  then  continued  on  her  way  until  she  dis- 
appeared. And  I  stood  and  watched  her  go, 
saying  to  myself:  I  think  she  will  bring 
me  the  key  to-morrow,  without  dreaming  of 
betraying  me:  for  I  scared  her  almost  to 
death,  and  she  is  frightened.  And  I  was  very 
sorry  for  her,  and  yet  it  was  the  only  thing 
to  do,  for  there  was  no  other  means  of  reducing 
her  to  absolute  submission.  And  yet  she  was 
beautiful  to  look  at,  even  so,  resembling  as 
she  did  a  feminine  incarnation  of  audacity 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        H9 

suddenly  changed  into  unconditional  obedience 
by  standing  between  two  appalling  dangers 
and  only  doubting  which  was  the  more  to  be 
feared.  And  very  strange  is  the  difference 
fixed  by  the  Creator  between  a  woman  and 
a  man:  since  the  very  timidity  that  makes 
him  utterly  contemptible  only  makes  her  even 
more  beautifully  delicious  than  she  was  before. 


XXIII 

And  next  day,  I  waited  all  the  morning  for 

Chaturika  to  come,  and  noon  arrived  without 

her  coming.     And  I  said  to  myself  as  I  sat 

waiting:  She  will   come  by   and  by,    and   I 

cannot  expect  her  very  early,  for  she  may 

have  many  other  things  to  do  as  well  as  mine. 

And  it  may  be  no  easy  task  that  I  have  given 

her  to  do.     And  now,  what  am  I  to  say  to 

Tarawali,  when  I  come  upon  her  in  the  garden, 

and  see  her,  O  ecstasy!  again?    And  strange! 

at  the  very  thought  of  seeing  her  again,  my 

heart  began  to  burn,  as  if  turning  traitor  to 

my  own  determination.     And  I  said  sadly  to 

myself:  Alas!  I  am  afraid,  or  rather  I  am  sure, 

that  the  very  sight  of  her  will  be  like  a  flood, 

in  which  every  fragment  of  my  resentment 

against  her  for  treating  me  as  she  has  done, 

and  every  atom  of  my  resolution,  and  every 

recollection  of  all  that  I  have  heard  to  her 

discredit,  will  be  swept  away  like  chips  and 

150 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        151 

straws.  Do  what  she  may,  I  cannot  drive 
my  affection  for  her  out  of  my  heart,  which 
obstinately  clings  to  her  image,  utterly  refus- 
ing to  be  torn  away.  And  notwithstanding 
all  that  those  two  rascals  said  in  her  disparage- 
ment, my  soul  laughs  them  to  utter  scorn, 
telling  them  they  lie.  And  who  knows? 
For  who  could  believe  that  a  body  so  unut- 
terably lovely  could  harbour  a  soul  so  unut- 
terably base  as  they  said,  on  evidence  such 
as  theirs?  Aye!  my  recollection  of  her  soul 
is  an  argument  in  her  favour  that  nothing 
that  they  said  can  overcome,  and  I  could 
forgive  her  absolutely  anything,  when  I  think 
of  the  gentle  sweetness  that  echoed  in  her 
every  word,  resembling  a  perfume  somehow 
mixed  with  her  voice.  And  yet  if  my  resolu- 
tion wavers,  even  now,  how  will  it  be  when  she 
actually  stands  before  me  as  she  will  to-night? 
And  yet,  how  is  it  possible  to  absolve  her  for 
her  inexplicable  behaviour  to  me? 

And  so  as  I  mused,  touching  all  unconsciously 
the  strings  of  my  lute  which  was  lying  in 
my  hands,  suddenly  a  thought  came  into  my 
mind  of  its  own  accord.  And  I  took  the 
lute  and  unstrung  it,  and  chose  from  among 


152     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

its  strings  one,  which  I  rolled  like  a  bangle 
on  my  wrist.  And  I  said  to  the  lute  aloud: 
Old  love,  we  will  work  together:  for  if  indeed 
she  is  my  enemy,  she  is  thine  as  well.  And  if, 
as  those  assassins  said ,  she  is  only  a  body  without 
a  soul,  playing  on  us  both  merely  for  her  own 
amusement,  then  we  will  give  her  together  a 
music  lesson  of  a  novel  kind,  and  teach  her 
that  the  deadliest  of  all  poisons  is  a  love 
that  has  been  betrayed. 

And  suddenly  I  heard  loud  laughter,  like  an 
echo  to  my  words.  And  I  looked  up,  and  lo! 
there  was  Haridasa,  standing  in  the  open 
door.  And  he  said:  What  is  this,  O  Shatrun- 
jaya?  Whom  art  thou  about  to  poison,  or 
who  is  going  to  poison  thee?  And  hast  thou 
solved  thy  problem,  since  I  saw  thee  from  the 
camel's  back,  pondering  on  thine  own  beauty? 
Or  hast  thou  arrived  already  at  the  poison  in 
the  bottom  of  love's  cup?  How  is  good  ad- 
vice thrown  away  upon  a  fool!  Did  I  not 
warn  thee?  Wilt  thou  never  understand  that 
the  nectar  of  a  woman  is  like  the  red  of  dusk, 
lasting  for  but  an  instant,  and  like  the  cream 
of  milk,  turning  sour  if  it  is  kept,  and  like 
foam  of  the   sea,   which  exists  only  during 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        153 

agitation,  melting  away  into  bitterness  and 
ordinary  water  as  soon  as  it  is  still?  As  indeed 
every  woman  well  knows,  without  needing  to 
be  told,  and  therefore  it  is  that  she  is  nectar 
always  to  a  stranger,  and  insipid,  even  when 
she  is  not  very  disagreeable,  to  her  friends, 
losing  her  fascination,  like  the  thirst  of  the 
antelope1  on  Martisthali,  for  all  that  approach 
her  too  near:  since  all  her  delusion  depends 
upon  her  distance,  and  vanishes  altogether 
by  proximity.     Keep  her  always  at  a  distance, 

0  Shatrunjaya,  if  thou  art  anxious  to  remain 
under  the  spell. 

And  I  said:  Haridasa,  I  am  only  a  fool,  as 
thou  sayest,  but  thou  art  wise.  And  now,  wilt 
thou  serve  me  at  a  pinch,  by  something  more 
than  good  advice?  And  he  said:  By  what? 
Then  I  said:  To-night,  I  have  business  that 

1  cannot  avoid,  and  yet  I  cannot  go  out,  unless 
I  can  find  one  whom  I  can  absolutely  trust  to 
remain  here  till  morning  in  my  place,  to  guard 
a  deposit.  And  so,  wilt  thou  be  my  guard? 
And  Haridasa  said:  I  cannot  refuse,  if  thy 
need  be  extreme.  For  men  to  be  absolutely 
trusted  arc  very  rare,  and  I  am  one.     And  is 

* i.  e.,  the  mira 


154    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

thy  deposit  large?  And  I  laughed,  and  I 
said:  Nay,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  very  small. 
And  it  will  be  here  in  another  moment,  for  I 
have  been  waiting  for  it  all  day  long.  And  as 
I  spoke,  lo!  Chaturika  appeared  in  the  door, 
as  if  by  a  toss  of  the  curtain.1  And  I  said  to 
Haridasa:  Here  it  is. 

And  seeing  that  I  was  not  alone,  Chaturika 
turned,  as  if  to  go  away.  And  I  called  out  to 
her  saying:  Wait  but  for  a  single  instant,  O 
thou  destitute  of  patience,  and  give  me  back 
my  key  that  I  gave  thee  last  night,  since  I  am 
in  sore  need  of  it.  And  then  she  came  to  me 
in  silence  and  gave  me  a  key.  And  I  said: 
Hast  thou  put  off  the  petitioner  as  I  desired, 
to  another  day?  And  she  said:  Yes.  And 
then  I  went  to  the  door,  and  shut  it.  And  I 
said  to  Haridasa:  I  have  an  appointment,  with 
one  who  may  be  friend  or  foe,  for  I  cannot 
tell.  But  here  is  a  hostage,  that  I  leave  behind 
me.  Keep  her  for  me,  and  never  take  thy 
eyes  off  her,  and  give  her  back  to  me,  safe  and 
sound,  on  my  return.  But  if  the  sun  rises 
to-morrow,  and  I  am  not  here,  cut  her  head 

1  That  is,  as  if  she  were  a  character  in  a  play,  coming  at  her 
cue.     The  phrase  is  common  in  the  Hindoo  plays. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        155 

off,  for  she  will  have  led  me  into  a  trap,  all 
unaware  that  she  was  setting  it  for  herself  as 
well. 

And  Haridasa  looked  thoughtfully  at  Chatu- 
rika  as  she  stood  aghast,  rubbing  his  chin  with 
his  hand.  And  he  said  slowly:  It  would  be  a 
great  pity,  my  pretty  maiden,  if  he  came  late, 
for  thy  head  looks  very  well  as  it  is  on  thy 
little  body,  which  without  it  would  look  as 
melancholy  as  a  palm  broken  short  off  by  the 
wind.'  And  yet,  do  not  weep.  For  Shat- 
runjaya  is  a  bad  judge  of  men  and  women,  and 
I  am  a  very  good  one.  And  if,  as  I  think,  he 
is  altogether  wronging  thee  by  his  suspicion, 
thou  hast  absolutely  nothing  to  fear  from  me, 
and  I  will  be  thy  father  and  thy  mother  till 
he  returns  to  free  thee  in  the  morning.  So 
dry  thy  tears,  and  I  will  return  to  thee  in  a 
moment  to  make  thee  laugh. 

And  he  led  me  away  out  at  the  door,  and 
shut  it  behind  him.  And  he  said:  Shall  I 
tell  thee  the  name  of  thy  very  pretty  deposit? 
Dost  thou  think  I  do  not  know  what  thou  art 

1  This  is  due  to  the  coal  black  stem,  which  gives  tO  a  palm 

tree  shorn  of  its  head  the  look  of  a  tumble-down  Brooke-grimed 

chimney.  Unshorn,  leaning  to  the  wind,  it  is  the  most  graceful 
thinn  in  the  world,  csj»<-ciall\     I  I  D  against  the  setting  sun. 


156    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

endeavouring  so  clumsily  to  hide?  Nectar 
when  she  turns  toward  thee :  poison  when  she 
turns  away? 

And  as  I  started,  staring  at  him  in  stupe- 
faction, he  said  with  a  laugh:  Ha!  thou  hast 
heard  it  before?  Didst  thou  not  betray  to 
me  thy  secret  unawares,  repeating  it  before? 
What!  dost  thou  not  know,  it  is  the  Queen's 
verse,  which  all  the  people  in  the  city  sing  of 
every  man  who  dooms  himself  by  becoming 
the  Queen's  lover?  I  could  have  told  thee, 
even  without  seeing  Chaturika  at  all,  that  it 
was  Tarawali  herself  who  was  thy  nectar,  and 
is  going  to  be  thy  poison;  and  well  I  under- 
stand who  is  the  friend  or  foe  to  whom  thou 
art  just  about  to  go.     It  is  the  Queen. 

And  he  took  me  by  both  hands,  and  looked 
straight  into  my  eyes.  And  he  said:  Fool! 
and  art  thou  actually  hoping  still  for  the 
nectar  that  is  gone?  Thy  hope  will  be  in 
vain.  I  told  thee,  without  naming  her,  to 
hold  her  very  cheap,  if  ever  thou  wouldst 
have  her  hold  thee  dear.  It  was  useless  to 
restrain  thee,  for  thou  wouldst  not  have 
believed  me,  no  matter  what  I  said.  There 
was  but  a  single  chance.    For  the  moment 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        157 

that  she  sees  that  her  fascination  works,  and 
that  her  lover  lies  gazing  without  reason  or 
senses  at  her  terrible  beauty,  she  is  satisfied, 
and  throws  him  away:  whereas  had  he  only 
the  strength  to  resist  it,  she  might  against 
her  will  fall  in  love  with  him  herself  for  sheer 
exasperation  at  her  impotence,  in  his  case 
alone.  But  she  swept  thee  clean  away  like 
a  straw  in  a  flood,  and  thou  art  lost.  Thou 
hast  been  playing  unaware  with  a  queen- 
cobra,  that  has  smitten  thy  soul  with  the 
poisonous  fascination  of  its  magnificent  hood 
and  its  deadly  eyes,  and  bitten  thy  heart 
with  its  venomed  fang;  and  now  all  remedies 
are  worse  than  useless,  and  come  too  late. 
I  can  see  death  written  on  thy  brow,  and 
almost  smell  its  odour  in  the  air.  Beware  of 
Narasinha! 

And  he  went  in,  and  shut  the  door  upon 
himself  and  Chaturika,  leaving  me  alone  in 
the  street. 


XXIV 

And  I  stood  in  the  street,  staring  at  the  door 
as  it  shut  behind  him,  as  motionless  as  a  tree. 
And  I  murmured  to  myself :  Nectar  when  she 
turns  towards  thee:  poison  when  she  turns 
away!  So  then,  it  is  the  Queen's  verse,  sung 
of  others  and  sung  of  me!  And  this  was  the 
meaning  all  the  time!  And  this  is  what 
Chaturika  was  thinking  of,  every  time  she 
said  it,  laughing  at  me  in  her  sleeve,  as  beyond 
a  doubt  she  has  laughed  at  many  another 
man  before !  And  this  is  what  the  people  say ! 
And  all  the  time  I  thought  myself  exceptional, 
I  was  only  being  made  a  fool,  and  one  of  a 
large  number,  and  a  laughing-stock  for  the 
whole  city,  and  branded,  as  it  were,  with  ridi- 
cule and  ignominy  as  a  plaything  of  the  Queen, 
and  going  about  unconsciously  with  her  label 
round  my  neck:  Nectar  when  she  turns  to- 
wards thee:  poison  when  she  turns  away! 

And  suddenly,  rage  rushed  into  my  heart  in 

158 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        159 

such  a  flood  that  it  felt  as  if  it  were  about 
to  burst.  And  from  motionless  that  I  was,  I 
began  all  at  once  to  run  in  the  direction  of  the 
palace,  as  though  about  to  wreak  my  vengeance 
on  the  Queen  without  waiting  for  a  single 
instant.  And  then  I  stopped  abruptly  and 
began  to  laugh.  And  I  exclaimed:  Am  I 
actually  going  mad,  for  as  yet  it  is  still  day, 
and  I  cannot  even  get  into  the  garden  till  the 
sun  has  set.  And  after  thinking  for  a  mo- 
ment, I  went  away  to  the  river  bank  to  wait  till 
the  sun  was  down.  And  there  I  threw  myself 
down  at  full  length  upon  the  ground,  with  my 
chin  upon  my  hands. 

And  then,  strange!  as  I  lay,  little  by  little 
my  heart  began  to  cool,  and  all  its  fury  ebbed 
gradually  away.  For  as  I  thought  of  Tara- 
wali,  it  seemed  as  it  were  to  say  to  me:  I 
cannot  find  room,  on  second  thoughts,  for 
any  rage  at  all,  since  I  belong  absolutely  to 
the  Queen.  And  all  my  rage  turned  slowly 
into  such  unutterable  longing  that  her  image 
seemed  to  grow  dim,  seen  through  the  mist  of 
eyes  that  were  suffused  with  tears,  as  recol- 
lection brought  her  back  to  me  saying:  This 
is  how  she  looked   when  she  saw  thee  first, 


160    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

and  this  again,  is  how  she  lay  in  the  swing, 
and  this  again,  when  she  stood  up  before  thee, 
as  a  cheti,  in  the  moonlit  boat.  And  I  ex- 
claimed in  desperation:  Alas!  O  Tarawali, 
must  I  then  condemn  thee,  whether  I  will  or 
no?  For  they  all  say  the  same  of  thee,  and 
as  it  might  seem,  it  must  be  true,  and  yet 
no  matter,  for  I  absolutely  cannot  either  hate 
thee  or  believe  them,  when  I  think  of  thee  as 
I  saw  thee  myself.  And  my  heart  laughs  in 
scorn  at  all  the  efforts  of  my  reason,  never 
wavering  for  an  instant  from  thy  side,  like 
an  incorruptible  ally,  that  cannot  be  induced 
by  any  bribe  whatever  to  abandon  its  allegi- 
ance. Aye!  would  she  but  open  her  arms  to 
me  again,  I  should  forget  everything  else  in 
the  three  worlds,  to  snatch  her  in  my  own. 
How  is  it  possible  to  hate  her?  And  beyond 
all  doubt,  that  rascal  I  slew  hit  the  mark, 
when  he  said  that,  Narasinha  cannot  quarrel 
with  her,  being  utterly  unable  to  do  without 
her,  disarmed  in  all  his  attempts  to  oppose 
her  by  his  own  conviction  that  she  is  abso- 
lutely indispensable  to  his  own  life.  For  she 
may  have  deserved  ten  thousand  deaths,  and 
yet  what  does  it  matter,  if  for  all  that  she  is  a 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        161 

thing  that  once  lost  or  destroyed  can  never 
be  replaced,  as  indeed  she  is,  resembling  the 
Kaustubha,1  or  the  third  eye  of  the  Moony- 
crested  god,  of  which  in  the  three  worlds,  there 
is  only  one.  And  so  since  he  cannot  do  with- 
out her,  she  is  beyond  all  reach,  and  invulner- 
able, doing  with  impunity  exactly  what  she 
pleases,  caring  nothing  whether  he  loves  or 
hates  her,  and  laughing  at  the  very  notion  of 
being  brought  to  book,  secure  in  the  magic 
circle  of  her  own  irresistible  attraction,  whose 
very  power  of  destroying  all  others  is  her  own 
protection,  like  a  spell  with  a  double  edge, 
such  that,  as  that  rascal  said,  she  cannot 
refrain  from  amusing  herself,  by  trying  its 
effect  on  all.  And  who  could  find  it  in  his 
heart  to  blame  her  for  delighting  in  the  exer- 
cise of  her  own  spell,  like  a  child  rejoicing  in 
its  toy,  aye!  even  were  he  himself  its  victim, 
as  its  effect  would  be  the  same,  no  matter 
what  she  did,  seeing  that  she  must  attract 
whether  she  will  or  no?  Being  what  she  is, 
she  cannot  help  it:  it  is  involuntary  and  be- 
yond her  control.  And  alas!  I  fell  before  it 
without  a  shadow  of  resistance,  enslaved  even 

'Thegreel  jewel  on  Wishnu'    brei  t. 

1 1 


1 62     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

before  I  saw  it  by  her  own  dream,  not  even 
affording  her  the  pleasure  of  watching  her 
fascination  gradually  overcoming  opposition, 
and  asserting  its  power,  and  subduing  me  to 
her  domination,  against  my  will.  And  so  I 
became  a  thing  of  no  value  to  her  at  all,  since 
in  my  case  there  was  nothing  to  overcome. 
Ah !  had  I  only  been  capable  of  seeming  to  be 
one  on  whom  her  charm  would  not  work, 
then  indeed,  as  Haridasa  says,  I  might  have 
prevailed:  and  she  might  herself  have  fallen 
victim  to  the  man  who  defied  her  fascination 
and  laughed  in  her  face,  out  of  pique  and 
irritation  at  her  own  impotence.  And  all  the 
more,  if  what  that  rascal  said  have  any  truth, 
that  she  actually  took  a  momentary  fancy  to 
me,  strange  as  it  seems.  But  alas!  as  he  said, 
it  is  all  too  late. 

And  suddenly  I  started  to  my  feet  with 
a  beating  heart.  And  I  exclaimed:  Too 
late!  But  what  if  it  were  not  too  late,  after 
all? 

And  as  I  stood,  thinking  of  it,  struck  into 
sudden  agitation  by  my  own  idea,  hope  glim- 
mered in  the  darkness  of  my  soul  like  the  first 
faint  streak  of  rosy  dawn  at  the  end  of  a  black 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        163 

night.  And  the  dream  of  the  bare  possibility 
of  bringing  back  Tarawali  with  all  her  old 
intoxicating  sweetness  almost  took  away  my 
breath.  And  after  a  while,  I  said  to  myself: 
Yes,  indeed,  he  actually  said  that  she  took 
a  fancy  to  me,  even  though  it  were  only  for  a 
moment.  And  how  could  he  have  known  it, 
if  she  had  not  herself  confessed  it  to  Chaturika, 
from  whom  alone  he  could  have  heard  it,  since 
very  certainly  he  never  learned  it  from  Tara- 
wali herself?  Aye!  and  was  not  Chaturika 
herself  far  sweeter  at  the  beginning,  just  as 
if  she  knew  I  was  no  ordinary  lover,  but  one 
with  a  little  foothold  in  the  Queen's  heart? 
And  if,  then,  I  was  ever  there,  why  could  I 
not  return?  And  if  her  fancy  has  gone  to 
sleep,  could  I  not  awake  it?  Can  it  be  already 
so  absolutely  dead  as  never  to  revive,  with 
not  a  single  spark  among  the  ashes  to  be 
refanned  into  a  flame?  How  would  it  be, 
could  I  but  manage  to  persuade  her  she  was 
utterly  mistaken,  in  supposing  that  I  was  only 
a  miserable  victim  of  her  spell?  How,  if  I 
could  convince  her  that  I  valued  all  her  fasci- 
nations at  a  straw?  Would  she  not  at  least 
be  tempted  to  try  them  all  on  me  again,   if 


1 64    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

only  to  test  them  and  discover  whether  I  was 
lying  or  in  very  truth  proof  against  all  the 
power  of  her  charm?  And  if  only  she  did, 
what  then?  For  once  she  began,  it  would  all 
depend  on  me,  whether  she  ever  stopped  any 
more. 

And  all  at  once,  I  uttered  a  shout  of  hope 
and  exultation  and  excitement,  suddenly  tak- 
ing fire  at  the  picture  painted  by  my  own 
craving  imagination.  And  I  exclaimed:  Ha! 
who  knows?  And  at  least,  I  can  try.  And 
even  if  I  fail,  it  cannot  possibly  be  worse  than 
it  is  already,  drowned  as  I  am  in  misery  with- 
out her:  whereas,  if  I  could  succeed!  Ah! 
I  would  barter  even  emancipation  for  a  single 
kiss!  And  O  that  my  courage  may  not  fail, 
turning  coward  at  the  very  first  sight  of  her 
again !  For  the  struggle  to  appear  indifferent, 
in  such  an  ocean  of  rapture,  will  be  terrible 
indeed,  since  even  now,  the  very  thought  of  it 
makes  me  tremble,  being  enough  to  make  me 
fall  weeping  at  her  feet.  And  now  the  sun 
is  setting,  and  it  is  time  to  go:  and  in  a  very 
little  while,  fate  will  decide,  whether  she  and 
I  are  to  die  or  live.  For  I  cannot  live  with- 
out her,  and  unless  she  will  allow  me  to  live 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        165 

with  her,  she  shall  not  live  at  all,  either  alone, 
or  with  anybody  else.  For  she  will  kill  me, 
by  driving  me  away,  and  I  will  take  her  with 
me,  if  I  am  to  die. 


XXV 

And  then  I  went  away  with  rapid  steps,  all 
through  the  city,  till  I  reached  the  little  ruined 
temple,  that  stood  exactly  opposite  the  door 
that  Chaturika  had  shown  me  the  night  before. 
And  I  hid  myself  behind  the  image  of  the 
Moony-crested  god,  and  watching  my  oppor- 
tunity that  none  should  see  me,  all  at  once  I 
crossed  the  street  and  tried  the  key  in  the 
door,  almost  shaking  with  anxiety,  lest  after 
all  she  had  played  me  false,  by  giving  me  at 
haphazard  some  key  that  would  not  fit.  But 
O  joy!  the  key  turned,  and  the  door  opened, 
and  I  went  through.  And  very  carefully  I 
closed  it  again,  and  then,  first  of  all,  I  hid  the 
key  in  a  hole  in  the  wall,  making  sure  of  my 
return.  And  then  I  drew  a  deep  sigh,  almost 
unable  to  believe  myself  once  more  in  that 
garden  which  held  Tarawali  hidden  somewhere 
in  its  dark  recesses.  And  I  said  to  myself, 
with  emotion:  Ah!  now,  come  what  may,  at 

1 66 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        167 

least  I  shall  look  upon  her  again,  and  very 
soon.  And  even  for  that  alone,  I  am  ready  to 
die.  And  it  may  very  well  be  that  death  is 
close  at  hand.  For  if  Chaturika  is  in  the  pay 
of  Narasinha,  as  she  very  well  may  be,  and 
has  betrayed  me,  I  may  be  walking  straight 
into  a  trap.  For  his  assassins  may  be  posted 
in  the  trees  in  almost  any  number.  And  little 
should  I  care  to  die,  so  long  as  they  only  slew 
me  on  my  return;  but  I  am  terribly  afraid 
of  being  slain  before  I  see  her.  For  then 
indeed  I  should  suffer  the  agony  of  a  double 
death. 

And  I  went  on  slowly  in  the  shadow  of  the 
trees,  guessing  my  direction,  for  I  was  going 
by  a  way  I  did  not  know,  fearing  not  at  all 
the  death  that  might  suddenly  spring  out  upon 
me,  but  dreading  far  more  than  death  the 
possibility  of  its  anticipating  my  discovery  of 
the  Queen.  And  little  by  little,  as  nothing 
happened,  I  forgot  my  fears,  saying  to  myself: 
To-morrow  I  will  give  Chaturika  anything  in 
the  world,  and  beg  her  pardon  for  suspecting 
her  of  breaking  faith.  But  in  the  meantime, 
I  must  above  all  manage  to  come  upon  Tara- 
v.ali  unawares,   and    escape   her   observation 


1 68     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

until  I  catch  sight  of  her  myself:  for  if  she 
saw  me  first,  she  might  hide,  or  even  go  away 
altogether,  leaving  me  to  look  for  her  in  vain, 
and  making  all  assassination  superfluous,  since 
if  I  do  not  find  her  I  shall  simply  die  of  my 
own  accord,  long  before  morning,  of  disap- 
pointment and  despair.  And  so  I  went  on 
very  slowly,  making  absolutely  no  noise,  like 
a  Shabara  stalking  a  wild  elephant  in  the 
forest,  dying  of  expectation,  and  yet  not 
daring  to  make  haste,  for  fear  of  losing  all: 
until  at  last,  after  a  very  long  time,  I  came  to 
the  terrace  by  the  pool  once  more.  And  then 
I  looked,  and  suddenly  I  caught  sight  of  her, 
standing  alone,  like  a  pillar,  on  the  very  verge 
of  the  terrace  steps. 

And  I  stopped  short  in  the  shadow  of  a 
tree,  to  watch  her  for  a  little  and  master  my 
emotion,  holding  my  breath,  and  lost,  not 
only  in  the  ecstasy  of  being  close  to  her  again, 
but  in  sheer  admiration  of  the  wonder  that 
I  saw.  For  she  was  dressed  as  it  seemed  all 
in  silver  gauze,  looking  ashy  pale  in  the  moon- 
light, and  she  was  standing  absolutely  straight 
up,  with  her  two  hands  clasped  behind  her 
head,  turning  half  towards  me,  so  that  I  could 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        169 

just  see  her  dark  hair  between  her  two  bent 
arms,  lit  up  not  by  a  star,  but  a  diadem  like 
a  young  moon,  that  shone  all  yellow  as  if 
made  by  a  row  of  topaz  suns,  so  that  she  looked 
like  a  feminine  incarnation  of  the  Moony- 
crested  god,  smeared  with  silver  sheen  instead 
of  ashes.  And  as  she  stood  still  with  her  two 
feet  close  together,  gazing  at  the  pool,  with 
her  head  leaning  a  little  back  against  the  pil- 
low of  her  hands,  alone  in  the  very  middle  of 
the  terrace  on  the  very  edge  of  its  top  step, 
with  nothing  but  the  dusk  for  her  background, 
resembling  a  great  jar,  her  solitary,  silent 
figure,  rising  from  its  narrow  base  into  lustrous 
moonlit  curves  that  ended  in  the  tall  bosses 
of  her  breast,  spread  wide  by  her  opened 
arms,  stood  out  in  a  vision  of  exact  and  perfect 
balance,  so  marvellously  lovely,  that  as  I  gazed 
at  it,  remembering  how  I  held  it  in  my  arms, 
unable  to  contain  my  agitation,  I  uttered  a 
deep  sigh. 

And  instantly,  she  spoiled  the  picture,  by 
changing  her  position,  and  looking  straight 
towards  me.  And  not  being  able  to  see  me 
clearly  by  reason  of  the  deep  shadow  that 
obscured  mo,   she  came  back  along  the  ter- 


170    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

race  in  my  direction,  walking  exactly  as  she 
did  before,  with  the  same  intoxicating  straight- 
ness  of  carriage,  and  the  same  rapid  and  un- 
dulating step,  till  I  could  have  laughed  aloud 
for  very  joy  to  see  her  coming  to  me,  like  the 
desire  of  my  own  heart  incarnate  in  her  round 
and  graceful  form.  And  as  she  reached  me, 
she  said,  with  exactly  the  same  low  and  sweet 
and  gentle  voice  that  I  was  yearning  with  all 
my  soul  to  hear  again:  Thou  art  late,  for  I 
have  been  waiting  for  thee  a  long  time. 

And  suddenly  I  came  as  it  were  to  myself, 
on  the  very  verge  of  ruining  all,  by  falling 
at  her  feet;1  saying  to  myself  with  an  effort: 
Now  then,  all  is  lost  beyond  redemption, 
unless  I  play  the  man.  And  I  came  out  of 
the  shadow,  saying  with  obeisance:  O  lovely 
Queen,  that  is  thine  own  fault,  and  not  mine. 

And  she  started  back,  with  a  faint  cry, 
exclaiming  in  the  extremity  of  sheer  amaze- 
ment: Shatrunjaya!  How  in  the  world  hast 
thou  got  in  here? 

And  I  answered  with  a  smile,  though  my 


1  Literally,  with  a  sdshtanganamaskara:  i.  e.,  with  an  obeisance 
made  by  falling  prostrate  with  the  eight  corners  of  the  body,  a  form 
of  profound  reverence  made  as  to  a  divinity. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        171 

heart  beat  like  a  drum  within  me:  Ah!  thou 
delicious  Queen,  in  this  lower  world  many 
things  come  about  contrary  to  expectation, 
of  which  this  is  one.  And  if  thy  owTn  surprise 
is  extreme,  so  is  mine:  since,  as  it  seems,  my 
coming  is  not  only  unexpected,  but  unwel- 
come. And  yet  how  short  a  time  it  is,  since 
thou  didst  entertain  me  with  a  sweetness  so 
extraordinary,  and  so  spontaneous,  and  so 
mutually  tasted,  that  I  thought  only  to  give 
thee  pleasure  by  repeating  the  experience,  and 
that  is  why  I  came.  And  if  thou  art  sorry  to 
look  at  me  again,  I  do  not  share  in  thy  feeling, 
since  all  the  pains  I  have  taken  to  arrive  are 
repaid  by  even  a  single  glance  at  thyself. 
For  surely  even  Indra's  heaven  cannot  hold 
anything  so  unimaginably  lovely  as  thou  art 
to-night. 

And  still  she  stood,  gazing  at  me  with 
strange  eyes,  and  she  murmured  to  herself, 
half  aloud:  Shatrunjaya!  It  cannot  be! 
And  I  said:  Nay,  thou  very  lovely  lady,  but 
it  can:  since  here  I  am,  and  I  am  I.  And 
why  not?  Didst  thou  think  I  had  forgot, 
what  could  not  easily  be  forgotten,  how  we 
floated    together    in    thy    cradle    among    the 


172    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

lotuses?  Or  is  it  any  wonder  if  I  have  thought 
of  nothing  else,  ever  since,  but  how  to  return? 
But  as  to  how  I  came,  it  is  a  secret  that  I  do 
not  choose  to  tell,  since  the  fancy  may  take 
me  to  come  again.  And  judging  by  thy 
excessive  condescension  when  we  met  before, 
I  did  not  think  very  much  to  displease  thee, 
if  I  ventured  to  substitute  myself  this  evening 
for  another,  who  cannot  even  hope  to  rival 
me  in  the  only  thing  that  matters,  my  unut- 
terable adoration  of  thyself:  since  of  thy 
favour  we  are  both  of  us  equally  unworthy. 
And  yet,  if,  as  it  seems,  I  was  utterly  mistaken 
and  the  substitution  is  not  to  thy  taste,  I  can 
very  easily  atone  for  my  blunder  by  going 
away  again  at  once.  Dost  thou  realty  ima- 
gine me  one  to  force  himself  upon  a  lady  who 
wishes  him  away?  O  thou  very  lovely  Queen, 
not  at  all.  For  I  am  just  as  good  a  man 
among  men,  as  thou  art  a  woman  among 
women;  and  if  I  am  not  to  thy  taste,  then,  O 
thou  fastidious  beauty,  neither  art  thou  to 
mine.  For  the  essence  of  every  lovely  woman's 
charm  is  her  caress,  which  springs  from  her 
affection,  and  the  desire  to  make  herself 
nectar  to  her  lover,  without  which  salt,  even 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         173 

beauty  is  beautiful  in  vain.  And  I  care  abso- 
lutely nothing  for  a  beauty  that  does  not 
take  the  trouble  to  be  sweet.  And  well  I 
know,  by  experience,  how  sweet  thou  canst 
be,  aye !  sweeter  by  far  than  any  honey  what- 
soever, if  it  pleases  thee  to  try.  So  choose 
for  thyself,  whether  I  shall  stay,  and  revel 
like  a  great  black  bee  in  thy  sweetness,  as 
once  I  did  before;  or  go  away.  But  let  me 
tell  thee,  pending  thy  decision,  that  if  thou 
dost  not  take  thy  opportunity  when  it  offers, 
it  will  never  more  return;  for  as  I  said,  I  do 
not  like  coming  where  my  coming  is  met  with 
distaste.  But  as  I  think,  if  thou  wilt  allow 
me,  to  advise  thee,  and  help  thee  to  decision, 
we  may  as  well  make  the  most  of  one  another, 
now  that  we  are  here,  otherwise  the  moonlight 
will  be  wasted  altogether,  since,  to-night  at 
least,  thy  other  lover  will  not  come.  For  I 
have  taken  care  to  exclude  him,  and  we  shall 
not  be  disturbed  by  any  disagreeable  inter- 
ruption. And  so,  either  thou  wilt  have  to 
do  without  a  lover  altogether,  or  take  me, 
for  sheer  want  of  something  else.  And  the 
first  would  be  a  pity,  and  all  the  delicious 
trouble  thou  hast  taken  to  deck   thy  beauty 


174    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

for  its  proper  object,  the  delight  of  a  lover, 
would  be  lost.  For  in  thy  silver  ashes  and 
thy  moony  tire,  thou  needest  no  third  eye  to 
destroy  thy  enemies,  since  thy  divinity  is  so 
overpowering  that  not  to  employ  it  as  it  was 
designed  to  be  employed  would  be  a  crime. 


XXVI 

And  all  the  while  I  spoke,  she  stood,  as 
curiously  still  as  if  she  were  made  of  marble, 
looking  at  me  quietly,  with  her  head  thrown 
just  a  little  back,  and  her  left  hand  pressed 
very  tight  against  her  breast,  and  eyes  that  I 
could  not  understand.  For  they  rested  on  me 
absolutely  without  anger,  seeming  as  it  were 
not  to  see  me  at  all,  but  filled  with  some 
strange  perplexity,  as  if  she  were  hunting  for 
something  in  her  recollection  that  she  could 
not  find.  And  when  I  ended,  she  continued 
to  stand,  exactly  in  the  same  position,  for  so 
long  that  I  began  to  wonder  what  could  pos- 
sibly be  passing  in  her  soul.  And  I  said  to 
myself,  as  I  waited  in  terrible  suspense:  Now 
very  likely,  in  another  moment,  she  will  sum- 
mon her  attendants,  and  have  me  ejected,  as 
well  she  might,  for  my  almost  inconceivable 
impertinence,  which  almost  broke  my  own 
heart  in  two  to  utter  it  at  all.     And  if  so  it 

«7.s 


176    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

seems,  even  to  myself,  what  must  it  seem  to 
her?  Aye  indeed!  for  every  word,  I  deserve 
ten  thousand  deaths,  and  I  could  forgive  her, 
no  matter  what  she  did.  Aye!  and  if,  in  a 
very  little  while,  she  does  not  speak,  I  shall 
be  throwing  myself  at  her  feet  and  begging  to 
be  forgiven,  unable  any  longer  to  endure. 

And  then  at  last,  all  at  once,  her  tension 
relaxed,  and  she  sank  back  suddenly  into  her 
old  soft  sweetness,  with  a  deep  sigh.  And 
her  eyes  seemed,  as  it  were,  to  come  back  to 
me,  and  find  me  for  the  first  time,  and  there 
stole  over  her  lips  a  little  smile.  And  as  I 
saw  it,  my  heart  almost  broke  with  delight, 
for  I  said  to  myself:  She  has  changed  her 
mind  about  me,  after  all,  and  now  my  plan 
is  beginning  to  succeed.  Alas!  little  did  I 
fathom  the  unfathomable  intelligence  of  that 
extraordinary  Queen !  And  presently  she  said, 
with  exactly  the  same  gentleness  in  her  low 
voice  that  made  my  heart  tremble  exactly  as 
before,  every  time  it  spoke:  Thou  art,  beyond 
all  doubt,  the  very  first  man  in  all  the  world, 
not  only  for  effrontery  and  impertinence, 
but  also,  for  this,  that  thou  hast  succeeded  in 
imposing  upon  me,  which  no  man  ever  yet 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        177 

did  before.  For  in  my  simplicity  I  had  thought 
thee  quite  another,  making  in  thy  solitary 
instance  a  mistake,  unusual  with  me,  and 
making  me  ashamed:  since  as  a  rule,  men's 
hearts  are  no  secret  for  my  own,  and  I  read 
them  at  a  glance. 

And  she  looked  at  me  with  a  smile,  and 
inscrutable  clear  eyes,  whose  expression  was  a 
puzzle  to  my  soul.  And  I  said:  Then,  since 
thou  readest  hearts  so  easily,  why  couldst 
thou  not  read  mine  also,  as  it  is  very  plain 
thou  didst  not?  And  she  said:  Why  very 
plain?  And  I  said:  Why  didst  thou  send  no 
answer  to  my  message,  and  why  didst  thou 
summon  me  at  sunset,  and  yet  go  away, 
leaving  me  nothing  but  the  scorn  of  thy 
servants  at  thy  gate? 

And  she  looked  at  me  in  blank  amazement, 
and  she  said:  What  dost  thou  mean?  I  never 
got  any  message,  and  if  any  summons  came  to 
thee,  it  was  not  sent  by  me.  For  I  have  not 
heard  anything  of  thee  at  all,  since  T  left 
thee  at  midnight  in  my  boat. 

And  as  she  spoke,  there  came  a  mist  before 
my  eyes,  and  all  the  blood  in  my  body  rushed 
suddenly  into  my  heart,  as  if  to  burst  it,  and 


12 


i78     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

then  as  suddenly  left  it,  so  that  I  almost 
swooned.  And  all  at  once  I  exclaimed  with 
a  shout:  Chaturika!  Ah!  then  I  was  de- 
ceived! Ah!  then  it  was  not  thou!  Ah! 
then  I  was  not  slighted  by  thee  as  a  thing  to 
be  despised !  Ah !  then  thou  art  not,  as  they 
say,  one  that  forgets  and  throws  away  her 
lovers  almost  as  soon  as  she  has  seen  them 
first!  Ah!  had  I  only  known,  I  never  would 
have  stolen  unawares  into  thy  privacy  to- 
night! Say,  say,  that  thou  art  not  such  a 
woman  as  they  say! 

And  again  she  looked  at  me,  with  those 
strange  quiet  eyes;  and  after  a  while  she 
said  with  a  sigh:  Thou  art  right.  They  say, 
but  they  do  not  understand.  And  yet,  what 
does  it  matter  what  they  say?  Is  it  my  fault 
if  every  man  that  sees  me  is  seized,  as  it  were, 
with  madness,  and  instantly  steps  over  the 
line  that  divides  friendship  from  passionate 
affection,  asking  me  for  what  I  cannot  give 
him,  with  such  eager  insistence  that  in  my 
own  defence  I  am  driven  to  dismiss  him  alto- 
gether? And  she  smiled,  and  she  said,  with 
playfulness  and  wistful  eyes:  Must  I  belong 
to  everyone,  merely  because  he  claims  me  as 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         179 

his  own,  and  his  property,  and  give  myself  to 
everyone  that  sees  me  in  a  dream? 

And  I  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and  I 
said  in  a  voice  that  shook  with  entreaty  and 
emotion  like  a  leaf:  Ah!  then  have  I  thy  per- 
mission to  stay  with  thee  to-night,  notwith- 
standing my  overweening  presumption  in 
coming  of  my  own  accord  without  an  invita- 
tion? Ah!  I  did  not  know:  my  heart  is 
breaking:  do  not  send  me  away! 

And  as  she  stood,  looking  at  me  with  irreso- 
lution, I  stretched  my  hands  towards  her, 
absolutely  senseless,  and  not  knowing  what 
I  did.  And  she  hesitated  for  yet  a  little 
while;  and  then,  with  a  sigh,  she  put  her  two 
hands  into  my  own.  And  with  a  shudder  of 
joy,  I  pulled  her  to  me,  and  caught  her  once 
more  in  my  arms,  and  began  to  kiss  her,  with 
hot  tears  that  fell  upon  her  face,  quivering 
all  over  with  the  extremity  of  my  agitation, 
and  not  believing  that  it  was  not  a  dream. 

And  then,  after  a  long  while,  I  came,  some- 
how or  other,  to  my  senses,  and  became,  a  little, 
master  of  myself.  And  T  looked  at  her  with 
dim  with  affection,  and  I  took  her  two 
arms,  and  put  them  round  my  neck.     And  I 


180    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

whispered  in  her  ear:  Now  give  me  a  kiss  for 
every  day  that  I  have  not  seen  thee,  since  I 
fell  asleep  in  thy  boat.  And  as  if  with  resigna- 
tion and  compliance  and  submission  to  my 
will,  she  did  exactly  as  I  told  her,  stopping 
time  after  time,  but  I  would  not  let  her  stop. 
And  at  last  I  stopped.  And  I  said:  There 
are  more  still  owing  for  thou  hast  not  counted 
right.  But  now  I  will  ask  thee  a  question, 
just  to  give  thee  time  to  breathe. 


XXVII 

And  as  I  held  her  still  in  my  arms,  with  her 
own  arms  round  my  neck,  she  said:  Ask. 
Then  I  said :  Didst  thou  know,  when  I  came 
to  thee  last  time,  that  my  coming  delayed  me 
in  a  matter  of  life  and  death?  And  she  said: 
Something  I  knew,  from  the  chatter  of  Chatu- 
rika.  And  I  said:  Didst  thou  know  that  my 
kingdom  depended  on  my  going  fast?  For 
as  it  is,  I  lost  it  all  by  coming  late.  And  she 
said:  It  was  no  business  of  mine.  And  I 
said:  What!  wouldst  thou  deprive  me  of  a 
kingdom,  by  placing  thyself,  for  a  single  sunset 
in  the  other  scale?  And  she  said:  I  did  not 
bid  thee  stay.  I  had  sent  to  thee  already, 
asking  thee  to  come:  and  if  another  summons 
called  thee,  after  mine,  the  choice  was  thine 
between  them.  I  told  thee  only,  I  awaited 
thee:  and  it  was  true.  And  I  said:  What 
if  I   had  not  come?     And   she  said:  Then  it 

may  be  thou  wouldst  have  kept  thy  kingdom, 

181 


1 82     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

and  lost  thy  interview  with  me.  That  is  all. 
It  was  not  I  who  had  anything  to  do  either 
with  causing  thy  dilemma,  or  determining  its 
conclusion.  And  I  said:  Beyond  a  doubt,  the 
loss  of  any  kingdom  would  be  a  trifle  in  com- 
parison with  thy  affection:  and  yet  the  loss 
is  certain,  and  the  affection  doubtful.  For  I 
showed  thee  very  plainly  which  I  chose,  and 
my  kingdom  is  gone.  I  have  thrown  it  clean 
away  for  thy  sake.  And  have  I  its  equivalent? 
Wilt  thou  make  it  up  to  me  by  giving  me  thy 
soul?  And  she  said,  gently:  It  is  not  mine,  to 
give  away,  for  I  belong  to  Narasinha,  body 
and  soul,  as  I  told  thee  long  ago. 

And  I  said:  How  canst  thou  say  so  when 
I  hold  thee  in  my  arms?  And  she  said,  quietly: 
Thou  art  but  a  momentary  accident,  due  rather 
to  my  yielding  myself,  against  my  own  will, 
and  to  pity  for  thy  unhappy  passion,  than  to 
any  hold  that  thou  hast  on  my  heart.  And 
Narasinha  learned  of  thy  former  visit  to  me 
in  this  garden,  as  very  soon  he  will  learn  of 
this  also,  since  I  tell  him  every  detail  of  my 
life,  great  or  small.  And  he  made  me  promise 
never  to  see  thee  any  more.  And  so  I  had 
intended:  but  thou  hast  managed  to  steal  in, 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         183 

somehow  or  other,  of  thy  own  accord.  It  is 
not  by  my  doing  that  thou  art  here  now  at  all. 
And  I  let  her  go,  and  stood  gazing  at  her 
with  amazement,  that  was  mixed  with  bitter 
disappointment  and  irritation,  and  fierce 
exasperation  at  this  obstacle  of  Narasinha, 
who,  out  of  my  reach,  and  hiding  behind  her 
as  a  screen,  issued  orders  that  I  was  to  be  shut 
out  of  her  garden  and  banished  from  her  pres- 
ence, whether  she  would  or  not.  And  my 
heart  swelled  with  resentment  and  indigna- 
tion, and  I  said:  O  Tarawali,  Narasinha  may 
shut  his  eyes,  or  not,  as  he  chooses,  but  I  am 
very  different,  and  will  not  take  orders  as  to 
thee,  from  him  or  anybody  else.  Thou  art 
my  mistress  and  not  his.  And  she  shook  her 
head,  and  she  said,  very  gently:  Nay,  thou 
dost  not  understand.  I  am  not  anybody's 
mistress.  I  am  my  own  mistress,  and  do 
exactly  as  I  please,  whether  he  or  any  other 
like  it  or  not.  There  lives  not  the  man  who 
shall  say  to  me:  Here  is  a  line,  and  over  it, 
thou  shall  not  step.  And  whatever  I  do,  I  do  of 
my  own  free  will,  not  of  obedience,  but  of 
my  own  consent.  I  have  given  my  body  and 
soul  away,  but  my  will  is  mine. 


184    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

And  I  said  with  emphasis:  I  have  bought 
thee  at  the  price  of  a  kingdom,  and  become  a 
beggar  on  thy  account,  and  mine  thou  art, 
by  right.  Dost  thou  actually  tell  me,  I  am 
to  lose  my  kingdom,  and  get  absolutely 
nothing  in  exchange?  And  she  said,  always 
with  the  same  sweet  and  quiet  voice,  whose 
tone  never  varied,  adding  by  the  very  charm 
of  its  gentle  music  fire  to  the  exasperating 
sting  that  lay  in  the  words  it  said:  I  have 
nothing  at  all  to  do  with  thy  kingdom,  and  if 
thou  hast  lost  it,  I  am  very  sorry:  yet  blame 
not  me  for  its  loss,  but  thyself  alone,  for  the 
choice  was  thine.  And  moreover,  I  am  not 
for  sale.  I  give  myself,  or  part  of  me,  to 
any  one  I  choose.  It  is  for  dealers  and  mer- 
chants to  bargain.  I  never  bargain.  I  am  a 
Queen.  And  I  said  in  wrath:  Thou  shalt 
give  thyself  no  longer  to  any  one  but  me. 
Thou  hast  already  cheated  me  by  making  me 
the  loser  in  a  bargain  where  I  lose  all,  gaining 
nothing  in  exchange.  But  I  will  have  either 
my  kingdom  or  thyself:  and  if  not  the  king- 
dom, which  is  gone,  then  thee.  And  she  said 
quietly:  Say  nothing  rash,  or  harsh,  or  ill- 
considered.     It  is  not  I  that  have  cheated 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        185 

thee  out  of  thy  kingdom:  it  is  no  one  but 
thyself. 

And  I  exclaimed:  What!  didst  thou  not 
cheat  me  by  telling  me  thou  didst  love  me 
long  ago?  And  she  broke  in  instantly,  and 
said :  I  said  nothing  of  the  kind :  it  is  thy  own 
imagination.  I  never  told  thee  anything  so 
false  as  that  I  loved  thee.  And  I  said:  Nay, 
not  in  words,  but  in  a  language  deeper  far 
than  any  words.  What  woman  ever  gave  a 
man  what  thou  hast  given  me,  without  tell- 
ing him  very  plainly,  he  was  the  object  of  her 
love?  And  she  said  quietly:  It  was  but  thy 
own  inference,  and  utterly  unwarranted.  And 
I  said :  Why  didst  thou  then  allow  me  to  make 
love  to  thee  at  all?  And  she  said,  very  gently : 
I  did  not  ask,  nor  even  wish,  thee  to  make  love 
to  me  at  all.  But  I  was  touched  by  thy  emo- 
tion, and  thy  passion,  and  thy  miserable  long- 
ing and  willing  to  soothe  it,  and  gratify  it, 
for  an  instant,  letting  thee  taste  that  nectar 
for  which  thou  wert  so  obviously  dying:  for 
I  am  kind. 

And  I  exclaimed  with  a  shout:  Kind!  Why, 
what  is  thy  kindness  but  the  very  extremity 
of  unkindness?    What!  and  did  all  thy  ca- 


1 86    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

resses  mean  absolutely  nothing?  And  she 
said,  very  gently :  They  meant  exactly  what  they 
were,  gifts  and  boons,  bestowed  of  sheer  com- 
passion: and  if  from  their  receipt,  thou  hast 
drawn  the  conclusion  that  thy  affection  was 
returned,  it  is  not  so:  it  is  only  thy  own  un- 
justified construction,  for  thou  art  not,  and 
never  can  be,  anything  to  me,  but  the  thing 
that  thou  wilt  not  be,  a  mere  friend.  And  I 
said:  What  kind  of  a  woman  art  thou  to  be- 
tray me  with  kisses?  And  she  said:  I  am 
only  what  I  am:  but  thou  art  most  unfair  to 
me,  and  instead  of  peevishly  demanding  of 
me  what  I  cannot  give,  and  growing  so  un- 
reasonably angry,  thou  oughtest  rather  to 
be  very  grateful  to  me,  for  giving  thee  any- 
thing at  all.  I  told  thee  almost  as  soon  as  I 
had  seen  thee,  in  the  very  beginning  of  all, 
that  I  belonged,  body  and  soul,  to  Narasinha: 
and  yet  notwithstanding,  I  took  pity  on  thee, 
for  thy  misery,  and  gave  thee,  by  concession, 
what  I  might  very  easily  have  refused,  hu- 
mouring thy  weakness  like  that  of  a  child, 
crying  for  what  he  cannot  have.  But  never 
did  I  promise  thee  anything  beyond:  and  I 
even  told  thee,  if  thou  canst  remember  it, 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        187 

that  it  might  injure  thee  and  could  not  do  thee 
any  good.  But  thou  wert  blind,  and  as  it 
were  buried  in  thy  dream.  Did  I  not  warn 
thee,  and  entreat  thee  beforehand,  not  to 
blame  me,  when  the  dream  was  over,  and 
reality  returned.  And  when  I  had  surfeited 
thy  longing,  and  dismissed  thee,  I  meant  it  to 
be  the  end,  for  it  was  all  I  had  to  give.  In  all, 
it  is  not  I,  that  have  in  any  way  whatever 
deceived  thee:  thou  hast  all  along  only  de- 
ceived thyself.  And  if  I  have  deceived  at  all, 
it  is  myself  alone  I  have  deceived,  by  expecting 
any  gratitude  for  the  boon  of  my  compassion, 
and  the  favour  that  I  poured  on  thee  with  no 
miser's  hand,  because,  I  blamed  myself  for 
being  innocently  guilty  of  becoming  the  unin- 
tentional object  of  thy  passion,  and  its  invol- 
untary cause. 


XXVIII 

And  I  listened,  so  utterly  confounded  by  the 
very  simplicity  of  her  apology,  which  over- 
turned all  my  accusations,  and  put  me  in  the 
wrong,  that  I  stood  in  silence,  unable  to  find 
anything  to  say.  And  in  my  stupefaction 
I  began  to  laugh.  And  I  said:  Ha!  Nectar 
when  she  turns  towards  thee:  poison  when 
she  turns  away!  Hast  thou  never  heard  the 
Queen's  verse?  And  she  said:  What!  wilt 
thou  actually  lay  on  me  the  burden  of  refuting 
the  silly  slander  of  a  rhyme,  circulated  by  little 
rascals  merely  for  want  of  something  else  to 
say?  Can  I  help  what  they  say,  or  shall  I 
even  stoop  to  listen  when  they  say  it,  who  will 
say  anything  of  queens,  without  shame  for 
the  envious  venom  of  their  own  base  insig- 
nificance, knowing  all  the  time  absolutely  no- 
thing, but  making  mere  noise,  like  frogs  all 
croaking  together  in  a  marsh?  Or  if  I  must 
absolutely  answer,  in  spite  of  my  disdain,  how 

1 88 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        189 

can  I  prevent  any  lover,  such  as  thyself,  from 
persuading  himself  of  what  he  wishes  to  believe? 
For  all  of  them  resemble  thee,  behaving  like 
unreasonable  bulls,  the  very  moment  that 
they  see  me,  and  pestering  me  like  flies,  to  my 
torment,  and  yet  would  blame  me  for  driving 
them  away.  And  every  one  of  them,  exactly 
like  thee,  imagines  me  his  own,  for  no  reason 
that  I  am  ever  able  to  discover,  although  I 
tell  them  all,  exactly  as  I  told  thee,  that  I 
belong  to  Narasinha. 

And  I  said  in  wrath:  I  will  slice  off  the 
head  of  Narasinha,  by  and  by,  as  I  have  done 
already  for  some  of  his  tools.  And  I  will  not 
be  the  plaything  of  a  moment,  to  be  cast  aside 
the  next.  I  have  lost  a  kingdom  for  thy  sake, 
and  will  have  thee  to  repay  me,  whether  thou 
wilt  or  no.  And  she  said  with  a  smile:  Thou 
art  angry,  and  talking  nonsense  in  thy  anger, 
as  angry  men  will.  Dost  thou  not  see  that 
thou  art  bereft  of  thy  senses?  For,  kingdom 
or  no  kingdom,  how  canst  thou  be  so  silly 
as  to  propose  to  force  me,  willy  nilly,  to  love 
thee  when  I  do  QOt  love?  If  I  loved  thee,  I 
should  say  so,  and  all  force  would  be  Super- 
fluous: if  not,  it   would  be   not  only   useless, 


190    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

but  injurious  to  thy  own  cause,  seeing  that 
the  more  thou  forcest,  the  less  wilt  thou  obtain: 
nay,  whereas  now  thou  art  indifferent,  thou 
wilt  bring  it  about  that  I  shall  hate  thee  in 
the  end,  as  I  am  beginning  to  do  a  very  little 
even  now.  And  then  it  will  be  worse  for  thee 
in  every  way.  For  thou  dost  not  seem  ever 
to  remember  that  I  am,  after  all,  not  only  a 
woman,  but  a  queen. 

And  I  looked  at  her  as  she  spoke,  saying  to 
myself:  She  is  wrong,  for  nobody  looking  at 
her  ever  could  forget  it,  even  for  a  moment, 
just  because,  like  the  grace  of  a  lily,  it  is  for- 
gotten by  herself,  and  she  would  still  be  a 
queen,  even  if  she  were  not  a  queen  at  all. 
And  she  looks  at  me,  notwithstanding  the 
biting  reproof  in  her  words,  with  exactly  the 
same  intoxicating  and  caressing  sweetness, 
as  if  I  were  still  a  dear  friend  with  whom  she 
were  unwilling  to  quarrel.  And  I  gazed  at 
her,  yearning  towards  her  with  every  fibre  of 
my  soul,  and  yet  exasperated  almost  beyond 
endurance  at  the  thought  that  she  was  keep- 
ing me  like  a  stranger  at  a  distance  from  her 
heart,  in  order  to  preserve  it  for  another. 
And  after  a  while,  I  said  slowly:  If  thy  affec- 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        191 

tion  is  not  to  be  given  to  me,  it  shall  never  be 
given  to  anybody  else.  And  she  said,  as  if 
with  curiosity:  Thou  art  surely  mad.  For 
how  canst  thou  prevent  any  other  from  fol- 
lowing thy  own  example,  and  doing  just  what 
thou  hast  done  thyself,  losing  thy  reason  at 
the  sight  of  me,  as  all  men  always  do?  Dost 
thou  not  see  that  my  power  to  excite  affection 
is  far  greater  than  thine  to  prevent  it?  And 
I  said :  It  would  be  very,  very  easy  for  me  to 
prevent  all  others  from  ever  loving  thee  again. 
And  she  looked  at  me  with  eyes,  in  whose 
unruffled  calm  there  was  not  even  the  faintest 
shadow  of  any  fear.  And  she  said  quietly: 
I  understand  thee  very  well,  and  yet  for  all 
that  I  tell  thee  thou  art  raving,  and  thou  art, 
without  knowing  it,  very  like  the  very  man 
thou  hatest  most,  Narasinha.  For  often 
he  has  said  to  me  the  very  same  thing  that 
thou  art  saying  now :  and  yet,  though  accord- 
ing to  thee,  the  thing  is  very  easy,  he  finds 
it  so  difficult  as  to  be  utterly  impossible.  For 
he  cannot  endure  to  do  without  me,  even  in 
a  dream,  and  cannot  therefore  bring  himself 
to  slay  me,  as  lie  is  ecu  lantly  threatening  to 
do,  knowing  very  well  that  he  might  rather 


192     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

slay  himself,  since  once  I  am  gone,  he  will 
never  find  another  me,  to  put  in  my  place. 
And  this  is  true,  even  though  I  cannot  under- 
stand it:  just  as  I  cannot  understand  what  it 
is  that  makes  me  indispensable  to  thee  or  to 
anybody  else.  For  I  know  it  only  by  its 
effect.  And  so  I  am  my  own  protection, 
against  all  his  threats,  or  thine.  And  if  I 
had  thought  otherwise,  what  could  have  been 
easier,  since  thou  talkest  of  easy  things, 
than  to  have  summoned  my  attendants  and 
bade  them  put  thee  out,  when  it  may  be  thy 
life  would  have  paid  for  thy  marvellous  im- 
pertinence, in  intruding  unbidden,  as  perhaps 
it  still  may,  without  any  instigation  of  my 
own  at  all?  Thou  dost  not  seem  to  under- 
stand that  all  this  while  thy  own  life  is  in  far 
greater  danger  than  mine;  since  thou  hast 
done  a  thing  that  will  not  be  forgiven  thee  by 
others,  though  I  myself  have  not  only  forgiven 
thee,  but  well  understanding  the  fiery  goad 
that  drove  thee  into  my  presence,  have  treated 
thee,  for  yet  once  more,  with  kindness  and 
condescension  far  beyond  any  deserts  of  thine. 
And  for  all  return,  thou  art  threatening  even 
to  slay  me.    But  I  am  destitute  of  fear. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman        193 

And  she  stood  before  me  in  the  moonlight, 
that  turned  her  as  it  clung  to  all  her  limbs  into 
a  thing  beautiful  beyond  all  earthly  dreams, 
absolutely  fearless,  and  with  a  dignity  whose 
royalty  was  not  only  that  of  a  queen,  but  of 
loveliness  laughing  to  scorn  all  possible  com- 
parison, seeming  to  say  without  the  need  of 
any  words:  Art  thou  brave  enough,  and  fool 
enough,  to  lay  rude  hands  on  such  a  thing  as 
I  am,  or  even  if  thy  folly  were  equal  to  thy 
courage,  canst  thou  find  it  in  thy  heart  to 
think  of  violence  offered  to  it,  by  thyself  or 
any  other,  even  in  a  dream?  And  my  heart 
burned,  for  sheer  adoration,  and  yet,  strange! 
it  began  to  sink  at  the  very  same  time,  as  I 
gazed  at  her,  looking  at  me  quietly  in  return. 
For  there  was  something  absolutely  unanswer- 
able, not  only  in  herself,  but  in  everything 
she  said,  and  yet  her  very  simplicity  that 
overwhelmed  me  with  its  soft  irrefutable 
sweetness  increased  the  torture  of  my  hope- 
less admiration  every  time  she  spoke.  And 
suddenly  I  struck  my  hands  together  in  de- 
spair. And  I  exclaimed:  Ah!  thou  marvel  of 
a  woman  and  a  queen,  I  am  conquered  by  thee, 
and  I  am  on  the  very  verge  of  falling  at  thy 


194    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

feet  in  a  passion  of  tears,  craving  thy  forgive- 
ness as  a  criminal,  so  bewildering  is  the  double 
spell  of  thy  beauty  and  thy  intelligence,  and 
the  candour  of  thy  strange  soul,  which  drives 
me  mad  with  its  inexplicable  charm.  But 
what  does  it  matter  to  me,  hate  me  or  love 
me,  if  I  am  never  to  see  thee  any  more?  Aye! 
Narasinha  may  not  find  it  in  him  to  slay 
thee  for  thy  wayward  and  beautiful  independ- 
ence, but  then  he  can  see  thee  every  day, 
exactly  as  he  chooses:  whereas  I,  once  I  go 
away  this  night,  am  outcast :  for  well  I  under- 
stand that  thou  or  he  will  see  to  it  that  I  never 
come  again.  Dost  thou  imagine  I  can  bear 
it?  And  again  I  struck  my  hands  together 
with  a  cry.  And  I  exclaimed:  Curse  on  my 
birth,  and  the  crimes  of  the  births  that  went 
before  it,  that  I  was  not  born  Narasinha!  for 
he  has  cut  me  from  my  happiness,  and  stolen 
from  me  the  very  fruit  of  being  born  at  all ! 

And  in  my  frenzy,  I  seized  her  in  my  arms, 
once  more,  desperately  clutching,  as  it  were, 
at  the  bliss  escaping  from  my  reach  in  her  form. 
And  I  said  to  her,  as  I  held  her  tight :  Tell  me, 
had  Narasinha  never  lived,  could  I  have  been 
to  thee  what  he  is  now?     And  she  extricated 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman         195 

herself,  very  gently,  from  my  arms,  and  stood 
back,  looking  at  me  with  meditative  eyes: 
and  after  a  while,  she  said  doubtfully,  yet 
with  a  little  smile  on  her  lips:  Perhaps.  But 
I  am  not  sure.  Thou  art  a  little  overbearing. 
And  yet  I  like  thee,  somehow,  but  I  love  thee 
not  at  all.  And  yet  again,  it  may  be,  that  had 
I  met  thee  sooner,  I  might  have  looked  at 
thee  with  other  eyes.  And  I  bear  thee  no 
malice,  if  indeed  thou  art  a  criminal,  for  any 
of  thy  crimes,  since  I  was  their  occasion.  But 
what  after  all  is  the  use  of  supposition  as  to 
what  might  be  were  Narasinha  away,  since 
as  it  is,  he  is  here,  an  obstacle  in  the  way,  not 
to  be  surmounted  by  any  means  whatever? 
And  so,  thy  case  is  hopeless.  And  I  tried  to 
make  thee  understand,  in  vain:  since  thou 
wilt  not  take  denial  or  listen  to  any  reason. 
And  I  went  to  such  a  length,  out  of  kindness, 
as  to  give  thee  one  single  evening,  packed  as 
full  as  it  could  hold  with  all  the  sweetness  I 
could  think  of,  giving  myself  up,  so  to  say,  to 
the  insatiable  thirst  of  thy  arms,  and  thy 
craving  desire  to  lie  caressed  and  kissed  by 
only  me,  and  embodying  thy  dream,  and  turn- 
ing myself  into  an  instrument  of  that  nectar 


196     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

of  feminine  intoxication  for  which  thou 
wert  ready  to  die,  and  putting  myself  without 
reserve  absolutely  at  thy  disposal,  only  to  find 
my  kindness  miserably  requited  by  ingratitude 
and  undeserved  reproaches,  and  even  menaces 
and  threats.  And  as  I  said,  to-night,  when  by 
underhand  contrivance  thou  didst  force  thy- 
self upon  me,  I  never  punished  thee  at  all, 
as  many  another  queen  might  do,  but  took 
pity  on  thy  desolation  and  forgave  and  over- 
looked all  thy  insolence,  without  being  in  the 
very  least  deceived  by  thy  fustian  beginning, 
which  I  easily  discerned  to  be  a  ruse,  to  enable 
thee  perhaps  to  steal  back  into  my  favour,  all 
founded  on  a  misinterpretation  of  the  woman 
that  I  am.  For  had  I  really  been  what  people 
say,  and  what,  listening  to  them,  thou  didst 
imagine  me,  thy  foolish  plan  might  perhaps 
have  been  successful,  but  I  am  very  different 
indeed.  And  yet,  even  so,  thy  part  was 
played  so  poorly  that  it  failed  almost  as  soon 
as  it  began,  since  it  needed  but  a  touch  of  my 
finger,  to  make  thee  drop  thy  mask  and  reveal 
thyself  to  be  what  all  the  time  I  knew  thee, 
a  lover  in  the  depths  of  despair.  For  love  is 
very  hard  to  hide,  and  thou  couldst  scarcely 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman       197 

hope  to  deceive  even  those  who  are  very  easy 
to  deceive,  as  I  am  not.  And  as  I  watched 
thy  clumsy  effort,  sitting  as  it  did  so  ill  on 
one  so  simple  and  direct  as  thou  art,  I  could 
not  prevent  my  compassion  from  mixing  with 
a  very  little  laughter,  remembering  the  ass  in 
the  Panchatantra,  who  clothed  him  in  a  lion's 
skin,  forgetting  that  his  ears  betrayed  him, 
to  say  nothing  of  his  voice.  And  now  for  the 
second  time  I  have  given  thee  something  that 
I  would  have  refused  thee  altogether,  had 
caresses  of  compassion  been  any  argument  of 
love.  But  understand  well  that  there  will 
be  no  third  opportunity;  for  this  is  thy  fare- 
well. Go  as  thou  hast  come,  for  I  will  not 
attempt  to  penetrate  thy  secret,  nor  have  thy 
footsteps  dogged. 


XXIX 

And,  as  I  listened,  I  knew  that  all  was  over, 
and  that  her  words  were  my  doom:  for  I 
understood  that  she  was  stronger  far  than  I, 
and  in  a  position  absolutely  impregnable  by 
any  efforts  I  might  make.  And  I  stood  gazing 
at  her  silently  with  a  tumult  in  my  soul  that 
could  find  no  utterance  in  words.  And  I  said 
at  last,  in  a  very  low  voice:  Is  thy  decision 
irrevocable,  and  am  I  really  never  to  see  thee 
any  more?  And  she  said:  Even  this  time  is 
more  than  I  had  allowed  thee,  and  I  am  afraid 
for  thee.  Aye !  I  fear  that  thy  life  is  the  for- 
feit thou  wilt  pay.  Yet  blame  not  me  for 
anything  that  may  occur.  For  Narasinha 
would  have  slain  thee  already,  as  he  is  furi- 
ously jealous  of  anything  that  comes  near  me 
in  the  form  of  a  man,  had  I  not  myself  ex- 
pressly interfered  in  thy  behalf,  making  him 
swear  to  overlook  thy  former  trespass  on  a 

ground  that  he  considers  as  his  own.     But  he 

198 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman       199 

will  not  listen  to  me  now.  And  to-morrow, 
as  soon  as  he  discovers  what  has  taken  place 
to-night,  for  I  cannot  hide  it,  he  will  take 
measures  to  prevent  thy  ever  coming  back, 
very  likely  such  as  thou  thyself  hinted  at,  of 
me,  a  little  while  ago.  Thou  art  looking  at 
me  now  for  the  very  last  time;  and  remember, 
I  told  thee  myself,  I  will  take  no  blame,  if  thy 
temerity  turns  out  to  have  cost  thee  dear. 
Farewell,  and  if  thou  canst,  forget  me,  and  go 
away  to  a  great  distance,  without  the  loss  of 
a  single  moment.  For  in  a  very  little  while, 
thou  mayst  find,  there  will  not  even  be  the 
chance,  and  it  will  be  too  late. 

And  instead  of  going,  I  stood,  rooted  to  the 
spot  like  a  tree,  gazing  at  her  thirstily,  in  a 
stupor  of  despair,  and  saying  to  myself:  What! 
can  it  really  be  possible  that  I  am  actually 
looking  at  her  now,  as  she  says,  for  the  very 
last  time  in  my  life,  doomed  to  go  here,  or 
there,  in  the  world,  without  ever  seeing  her 
again,  knowing  all  the  while  that  she  is,  still, 
somewhere  to  be  seen,  and  actually  being 
seen,  only  not  by  me.  Out  upon  such  horror, 
for  it  would  be  less,  even  if  she  were  dead! 
And  she,  so  kind,  so  gentle,  how  in  the  world 


200    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

can  she  stand  there,  bidding  me  with  a  wave 
of  her  hand,  in  that  low  sweet  voice  of  hers, 
to  go  away  to  a  great  distance,  to  save  my 
life,  knowing  well,  for  she  is  very  clever,  that 
she  is  taking  it  away,  by  banishing  me  for 
ever?  And  am  I  just  to  be  thrown  away  at 
the  bidding  of  Narasinha? 

And  at  the  thought,  all  at  once  I  began  to 
laugh  with  sheer  rage.  And  I  said  to  myself: 
What!  must  I  turn  my  back  on  heaven,  and 
go  meekly  down  to  hell,  at  the  order  of  Nara- 
sinha? Would  she  banish  me  at  all,  but  for 
Narasinha?  Who  in  the  world  is  Narasinha? 
Is  Narasinha  my  master?  Is  he  even  her 
master,  for  as  it  seems,  she  is  rather  his? 
Are  these  his  orders,  or  her  own?  Ha!  now, 
I  wonder.  What  if  after  all  this  Narasinha 
were  only  a  man  of  straw,  doing  exactly  as  he 
is  told,  and  acting  as  her  agent  and  her  instru- 
ment, for  the  sake  of  what  she  gives  him? 
Is  it  likely,  after  all,  that  he  orders,  and  she 
obeys?  And  am  I  being  fooled,  and  handed 
over  by  herself  to  banishment,  or  even  death, 
behind  the  screen  of  Narasinha? 

And  I  looked  at  her  as  she  stood,  patiently 
waiting  for  me  to  go,  with  a  soul  torn  to  pieces 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman       201 

by  rage,  and  suspicion,  and  love-longing,  and 
flat  refusal  to  go  away.  And  suddenly  there 
came  into  my  recollection  Haridasa,  saying  as 
he  stood  outside  the  door:  Nectar  when  she 
turns  toward  thee:  poison  when  she  turns 
away.  And  I  said  to  myself :  So  now  she  turns 
away.  And  can  she  possibly  not  know  what 
becomes  of  all  her  lovers? 

And  I  went  up  to  her,  all  at  once,  and  took 
her  by  her  two  hands,  and  looked  straight 
into  her  eyes.  And  I  said:  Tarawali,  thou 
choosest  thy  servants  well.  I  know  the  use 
of  Chaturika.  And  now  dimly  I  begin  to  see 
the  use  of  Narasinha.  Does  he  never  tell 
thee  where  he  throws  the  bodies  of  thy  old 
lovers,  when  thou  hast  finished  with  their 
souls? 

And  then,  strange!  her  eyes  wavered,  as  if 
unable  to  meet  my  own.  And  like  a  flash  of 
lightning,  I  understood.  And  I  exclaimed: 
Ha!  have  I  found  at  last  the  question  that 
thou  canst  not  answer,  and  laid  my  finger  on 
the  flaw  in  thy  consummate  skill?  So  then, 
this  was  all  but  a  comedy  that  thou  wert 
playing,  to  shift  the  1  >lamo  in  >m  thy  own  shoul- 
ders and  turn  mc  over  to  extinction  at  the 


202    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

hands  of  Narasinha?  Ah!  thou  art  thy  own 
mistress,  and  not  one  to  obey.  But  ah! 
thou  lovely  lady  that  hast  no  pity  for  thy 
poisoned  lovers,  it  is  not  the  lover  this  time 
that  shall  die.  And  thou  shalt  meet  thy 
master  for  the  first  time  in  thy  life. 

And  I  looked  at  her  for  a  single  instant  in  a 
frenzy  of  fierce  hatred  that  suddenly  blazed 
up  from  the  ashes  of  my  dead  devotion,  lying 
scorned  and  cheated  and  betrayed  by  the 
idol  it  adored.  And  I  seized  her  in  the  grip 
of  death,  and  tore  from  my  arm  the  lute- 
string that  was  wound  about  my  wrist.  And 
I  said:  Dear,  I  never  gave  thee  thy  music- 
lesson:  but  now  I  will  give  thee  a  very  long 
one  on  a  single  string.  And  in  an  instant  I 
twisted  it  about  her  neck,  and  drew  it  tight, 
holding  her  still  as  she  struggled,  in  an  ecstasy 
of  giant  strength.  And  so  I  stood,  trembling 
all  over,  for  a  very  long  time.  And  at  last, 
I  felt  that  she  lay  in  my  arms  like  a  dead 
weight,  hanging  as  it  were  against  her  will 
in  the  terrible  embrace  of  a  lover  that  loved 
with  hatred  instead  of  love. 

And  I  laid  her  down  very  gently,  turning 
carefully  away,  that  I  might  not  see  her  face. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman       203 

And  I  went  away  very  quickly,  and  all  at  once, 
as  I  went,  I  fell  down  and  began  to  sob,  as  if 
my  heart  would  break.  And  at  last,  after  a 
long  while,  I  got  up,  and  stood,  thinking,  and 
looking  back  under  the  trees.  And  I  crept 
back  on  tiptoe,  and  looked  and  saw  her  at  a 
distance,  lying  in  the  moonlight,  very  still, 
like  the  tomb  of  my  own  heart.  And  then  I 
turned  sharp  round,  and  went  away  for  good 
and  all,  without  a  soul.  And  I  said  to  myself 
in  agony:  Now  I  have  made  the  whole  wrorld 
empty  with  my  own  hand,  and  it  was  myself 
that  I  have  killed,  as  well  as  her.  And  now 
I  will  go  after  her  as  soon  as  I  possibly  can. 
But  there  is  one  thing  still  to  do,  before  I  go, 
for  I  have  to  give  another  lesson  to  Narasinha. 
Only  this  time  I  will  not  use  a  lute-string 
but  crush  out  his  soul  with  my  bare  hands. 

Ha!  Narasinha,  I  have  told  thee,  and  thou 
knowest  all.  And  now  thou  hast  only  to 
count  the  hours  that  are  left  to  thee,  for  I  am 
coming  very  soon. 


Ill 

A  STORY  WITHOUT  AN  END 


205 


Ill 

a  Ston?  without  an  Enfc 

And  then,  Maheshwara  tossed  the  last  leaf 
into  the  air.  And  as  it  floated  away  down  the 
stream,  he  said  to  the  goddess,  as  she  listened 
with  attention:  And  yet  he  never  came,  as  I 
told  thee  at  the  beginning.  For  Narasinha 
was  beforehand  with  him,  after  all. 

And  the  Daughter  of  the  Snow  sat  silent, 
looking  away  down  the  river  after  the  floating 
leaf,  until  it  was  lost  to  sight.  And  then  she 
said  slowly :  Why  didst  thou  say  in  the  begin- 
ning that  Tarawali  was  the  most  extraordinary 
of  all  women,  past,  present,  or  to  come?  For 
I  was  deceived  by  thy  encomium,  expecting  a 
woman  altogether  different  from  her,  who  was 
only  but  a  specimen  of  her  sex. 

And    the    Moony-crested    god    burst    into 

loud  laughter.     And  he  exclaimed :  Speak  low, 

O  Snowy  One:  for  if  thy  mortal  sisters  over- 

207 


208    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

heard  thee  betraying  their  secrets  and  their 
cause,  they  would  be  very  angry,  and  perhaps 
begin  to  curse  thee  as  a  traitor,  instead  of 
offering  thee  worship,  as  they  all  do  now. 
What !  dost  thou  actually  deem  her  to  be  but 
a  type  of  all  the  rest?  Surely,  thou  must 
have  been  asleep  all  the  time  that  I  was  read- 
ing, after  all:  since  thou  hast  either  misunder- 
stood her  altogether  or,  it  may  be,  wilt  not  do 
her  justice,  out  of  jealousy:  since  no  woman  in 
the  three  worlds  can  ever  be  trusted  to  judge 
another  fairly,  treating  her  always  as  a  crimi- 
nal and  a  rival,  and  falling  on  her  tooth  and 
nail,  especially  if,  like  Tarawali,  she  sets 
custom  at  defiance,  going  by  an  independent 
standard  of  her  own.  But  now  let  me  help 
thee  to  see  how  utterly  mistaken  is  thy  esti- 
mate of  a  character  so  rare  as  hardly  to  be 
matched  in  the  whole  of  space  and  time  for 
her  cleverness  and  her  candour  and  her  tran- 
quillity of  soul,  leaving  her  beauty  out  of  the 
account,  as  that  one  element  in  her  common  to 
a  very  host  of  others.  For  the  Creator  was 
not  such  a  bungler  as  to  confine  all  feminine 
beauty  to  a  single  instance,  but  scattered  it 
universally,  since  almost  every  woman  in  the 


A  Story  without  an  End       209 

world,  no  matter  what  her  face  be  like,  shares 
in  the  wonderful  fascination  exerted  over  men 
by  the  shape  essential  to  her  sex,  which  is  far 
the  most  important  thing  of  all,  being  general 
instead  of  special,  as  every  woman  seen  dimly 
in  the  dark,  or  at  a  distance,  or  with  her  face 
hidden  by  a  veil,  will  prove,  being  then  above 
all  most  attractive  when  her  face  cannot  be 
seen  at  all:  as  the  story  that  I  told  thee  of 
the  ugly  lady,  not  long  ago,  shows,  if  thou 
hast  not  forgotten  it.1  Whereas  the  thing 
special  to  Tarawali  was  her  incomparable  soul, 
in  which  were  mingled  elements  hardly  ever 
to  be  found  combined,  gentleness  and  strength, 
and  simplicity  almost  naive,  with  subtlety 
beyond  all  comparison,  and  pride  that  never 
took  offence,  and  superlative  beauty  with 
humility,  and  submissiveness  with  extreme 
independence  of  spirit,  and  kindness  without 
weakness,  and  feminine  sweetness  of  disposi- 
tion with  the  intellectual  vigour  of  a  man,  and 

1  A  very  beautiful  story  in  the  MS.,  which  has  not  yet  seen 
the  light.  The  opinion  of  the  deity  is  corroborated  by  that 
very  clever  woman,  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  who  says 
in  one  of  her  letters  fmni  Constantinople  that  if  women  w<  nl 
without  clothes,  the  face  would  hardly  count  at  all.  Nearly 
all  of  them  would  gain  immensely  by  (Tearing  a  permanent  veil, 
but  the  pretty  ones  would  never  consent  to  it. 


210    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

his  courage,  and  his  candour,  all  of  which  com- 
bined with  her  extraordinary  bodily  beauty  to 
make  her  a  paragon  of  intoxication  utterly  ir- 
resistible to  every  male x  she  came  across,  like  a 
very  Prakriti  in  a  woman's  form. 

And  Parwati  said:  How  canst  thou  lavish 
such  praise  on  a  woman  so  deservedly  slain 
by  her  infuriated  lover,  when  he  suddenly 
awoke  to  the  discovery  of  the  real  nature 
behind  the  mask? 

And  the  great  god  laughed  again,  and  he 
looked  at  her  shrewdly  and  he  said:  Aha: 
Snowy  One,  said  I  not  that  thou  wert  asleep 
as  I  read?  I  shall  have  to  repeat  to  thee  the 
story  all  over  again  another  time.  Dost  thou 
actually  not  see  that  all  she  said,  from  begin- 
ning to  end,  was  absolutely  true?  For  Shat- 
runjaya  told  the  whole  story  very  well,  as  he 
understood  it;  but  he  did  not  understand 
completely,  and  made  a  terrible  error  in  the 
most  important  point  of  all,  being  led  astray 
by  what  he  had  heard,  and  easily  taken  in. 
For   blinded   by   his   rage   against   his   rival 

1  Purusha  is  the  philosophical  term  for  the  Primordial  Male, 
of  which  Prakriti  is  the  female  antithesis.  The  god  is  combining 
Goethe  and  Swinburne:  the  "eternal  feminine"  and  the  "holy 
spirit  of  man." 


A  Story  without  an  End       211 

Narasinha,  he  came  suddenly  to  the  wrong 
conclusion,  and  slew  her  by  mistake,  never  so 
much  as  giving  her  time  for  any  explanation. 
For  her  eyes  never  wavered,  as  he  thought, 
for  guilt,  but  for  quite  another  reason.  And 
Narasinha  really  was,  exactly  as  she  said,  her 
tyrant,  nor  had  she  anything  to  do  with  his 
assassination  of  her  lovers,  which  he  committed 
all  on  his  own  account,  out  of  jealousy,  paying 
no  attention  at  all  to  her  intercession.  But  in 
her  gentleness,  she  shrank  from  the  very  idea 
of  any  violence,  and  this  was  the  true  cause  of 
the  wavering  of  her  eyes,  foreseeing  as  she 
did  another  attempt  on  Shatrunjaya,  which 
she  could  not  avert.  And  my  heart  was 
grieved  at  her  death  at  the  hands  of  a  lover 
whose  life  she  had  saved,  and  would  have 
saved  again  if  she  could.  For  she  was  worth 
far  more  than  he. 

And  the  Daughter  of  the  Snow  said:  But 
what  was  she  doing  with  such  a  multitude  of 
lovers  at  all? 

And  Maheshwara  said:  Thou  art  like  Shat- 
runjaya himself,  biassed  against  her  by  the 
insinuations  of  Haridasa,  and  the  discreditable 
behaviour  of  that  little  liar  Chaturika,  who 


212     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

betrayed  her  as  well  as  others,  and  by  the  idle 
talk  of  the  people,  which  she  rightly  compared 
herself  to  the  croaking  of  so  many  frogs.  For 
low  people  always  put  the  very  worst  interpre- 
tation upon  the  actions  of  kings,  and  especially 
of  queens,  of  whom  all  the  time  they  know 
less  than  nothing,  exactly  as  she  said.  And 
Shatrunjaya's  opinion  of  her  wavered,  in 
spite  of  all  his  worship,  being  coloured  by  the 
scandal  that  he  heard,  so  that  he  saw  her 
through  its  mist,  as  strangers  always  do.  And 
if  she  had  too  many  lovers,  it  was  all  the  fault 
of  the  Creator,  who  endowed  her  with  such 
fascination,  combined  with  the  kindness  of 
her  heart:  since  she  blamed  herself  for  their 
misery,  and  could  not  bear  to  send  them  away 
without  making  them  as  it  were  some  repara- 
tion for  her  crime  of  being  beautiful  beyond 
all  resistance.     And  this  was  her  only  fault. 

Then  said  the  Mountain-born,  with  em- 
phasis: I  hate  her:  for  a  woman  should  confine 
herself  to  one. 

And  Maheshwara  said,  looking  at  her  with 
affection:  Ah!  Snowy  One,  thou  art  right, 
and  thou  art  wrong.  For  not  every  woman  is 
a  counterpart  of  thee.    And  moreover,  to  be 


A  Story  without  an  End       ^13 

rigidly  inaccessible'  is  terribly  hard,  when  a 
woman  is  as  she  was,  a  very  incarnation  of 
bewildering  intoxication,  and  kind  into  the 
bargain.  For  then  she  resembles  a  fortress, 
besieged  night  and  day  and  mined  everlast- 
ingly by  innumerable  hosts  absolutely  de- 
termined to  get  in;  and  sleepless  indeed 
must  be  the  garrison  that  guards  it;  and 
often  it  yields  of  sheer  weariness  and  fatigue, 
unable  any  longer  to  endure  the  strain.  And 
Tarawali  was  absolutely  right  when  she  said  that 
her  lovers  drove  her,  against  her  inclination, 
into  the  reputation  of  a  lady  of  many  lovers, 
since  they  were  all  so  infatuated  by  the  very 
sight  of  her  that  they  never  let  her  alone. 
For  love  that  really  finds  its  object  will  face 
ten  thousand  deaths  to  reach  it,  and  is  very 
hard  to  repel.  And  it  laughs  in  utter  scorn 
at  arguments,  and  bribes,  and  barriers,  and 
dangers,  and  refusals,  bent  with  a  burning 
heart  upon  one  thing  only,  to  reach  its  goal, 
dead  or  alive,  no  matter  which.  And  when 
a  woman  is  an  incarnation  of  that  object,  she 
moves  the  whole  world  with  her  little  finger, 
and  is  fatal,  and  raised  into  a  category  above 

1  Sc<-  note  ante,  p.  66. 


214     The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

all  ordinary  rules.  And  Tarawali  was  more- 
over in  a  peculiar  position,  for  her  husband 
had  thrown  her  away  of  his  own  accord,  so 
that  she  actually  belonged  to  nobody  but  her- 
self, and  injured  herself  alone,  if  she  could 
not  always  help  yielding  when  a  lover  pushed 
her  terribly  hard,  by  touching  her  heart  like 
Shatrunjaya  in  the  matter  of  his  dream.  And 
very  few  indeed  are  the  women  who  would 
not  have  done  the  same,  for  he  was  a  great 
musician,  and  a  man  among  men,  and  very 
young.  And  very  rare  indeed  is  the  woman 
who  is  qualified  to  censure  her.  For  most 
women  keep  their  wheel  upon  the  track,  either 
because  nobody  ever  tries  to  make  them  leave 
it,  or  simply  for  fear,  either  of  being  punished, 
or  of  other  women's  tongues.  And  not  one 
in  a  crore  could  have  resisted  half  the  pressure 
that  Tarawali  had  to  bear,  for  the  very  great- 
est of  a  winning  woman's  charms  is  exactly 
the  one  which  she  possessed  in  supreme  per- 
fection, her  soft  and  delicious  willingness  to 
oblige  and  please,  and  place  all  the  sweetness 
of  her  personality  at  the  absolute  disposal 
of  her  lover,  as  Shatrunjaya  understood  at  the 
very  first  sight  of  her:  a  thing  so  utterly  irre- 


A  Story  without  an  End      215 

sistible,  that  when  it  is  combined,  as  it  was 
in  her,  with  intelligence  masculine  in  its  quality, 
its  owner  sweeps  away  every  man's  reason 
like  a  chip  in  a  flood.  And  there  was  a  special 
reason  for  Tarawali's  intelligence. 

And  the  goddess  said :  What  was  the  reason? 
And  the  Moony-crested  god  said:  It  was  the 
necessary  consequence  of  the  actions  of  a 
former  birth.  For  in  the  birth  before,  she 
was  a  man,  doomed  by  gati1  to  become  a 
woman  in  the  next,  by  reason  of  a  sin.  And 
she  said  again:  What  sin?  Then  said  Ma- 
heshwara:  Ask  me  another  time,  O  thou  ca- 
joler:  for  it  is  a  long  story,  and  now  I  have  no 
more  leisure:  since  I  must  go  and  bestow  the 
favour  of  my  presence  on  a  ceremony  per- 
formed by  a  pious  devotee  who  has  built  me  a 
new  temple  at  Waranasi.  And  canst  thou 
guess  who  it  is? 

And  the  Daughter  of  the  Snow  said:  How 
in  the  world  can  I  guess  his  name,  of  whom  I 
never  heard  before? 

And  the  Moony-crested  god  said:  It  is  not 

1  A  very  short  word  for  a  very  long  process,  and  untranslatable 
by  any  English  equivalent.  It  means  thr  whole  system  of  the 
laws  of  metempsychosis,  running  in  a  long  chain  forward  into 
the  future  and  back  into  the  past. 


216    The  Substance  of  a  Dream 

a  he,  but  a  she :  being  no  other  than  Tarawali 
herself,  in  yet  another  birth.  And  she  is  still 
only  a  woman,  for  she  has  not  yet  succeeded 
in  raising  herself  by  merit  into  the  condition 
of  a  man.  And  it  may  be  long  before  she 
succeeds.  For  it  is  easy  to  sink,  but  it  is  hard 
for  any  creature  to  rise  into  a  status  of  being 
superior  to  its  own,  and  the  women  who 
emerge  into  manhood  are  very  rare.  For 
the  goodness  that  is  synonymous  with  real 
existence1  is  only  to  be  found  in  those  who 
have  behind  them  the  accumulated  effort  and 
desert  of  ages,  standing  on  a  peak  loftier  by 
far  than  any  of  thy  father's  snowy  summits, 
which  cannot  be  attained  in  any  single  birth 
by  no  matter  what  exertions  or  austerities. 
But  when  once  any  being  has  attained  it, 
emancipation  dawns,  touching  it  into  colour 
more  beautiful  by  far  than  any  tints  the 
rising  sun  has  ever  thrown  on  newly  fallen 
mountain  snow. 

1  That  is,  sat  or  sattwa  =  goodness,  or  true  being. 

THE  END 


BUBBLES  OF  THE  FOAM 


m 


BUBBLES    OF    THE 
FOAM 

(^qwmnftfa) 

TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  MANUSCRIPT 

BY 

F.  W.  BAIN 


What !  Mortal  taste  Immortal?  Earth  kiss  Heaven  ? 
Confusion  elemental  I  ah  I  beware  I 

SOMADEWA 


Copyright,  1912 

BY 

F.  W.  BAIN 


Vbe  *tiiCRcrbocker  press,  Hew  Bcrft 


Dedicates 

TO 

LADY  GLENCONNER 


So  Life's  sad  Sunset  prizes 
What  Life's  gay  Dawn  despises, 
A  nd  always  Winter  wise  is 

When  Summer  is  no  more : 
While  Love  than  lightning  fleeter 
Turns  all  he  touches  sweeter, 
To  leave  it  incompleter 

Behind  him,  than  before. 


Amara 


Years,  looking  forward,  all  too  slow, 

Yet  looking  back,  too  fast, 
What  is  your  joy,  what  is  your  woe, 
But  scented  ash  that  used  to  glow, 
A  sandalwood  of  long  ago, 

A  camphor  of  the  past  ? 

SULOCHANA 


CONTENTS 


I. — A  Spoiled  Child  . 
II. — The  Thirst  of  an  Antelope 


I.    A    DAPPLED   DAWN    . 


II.     A   GLAMOUR    OF    NOON 


III.    THE   DESERT   AND   THE    NIGHT 


PACK 

I 

33 

37 

79 

ii3 


VII 


INTRODUCTION 

Four  things  are  never  far  from  you,  in  old 
Hindoo  literature:  underfoot,  all  around  you, 
or  away  on  the  horizon,  there  they  always  are : 
the  Forest,  the  Desert,  the  River,  and  the 
Hills. 

It  is  never  very  easy,  to  understand  the  Past 
that  really  is  a  past :  and  the  age  of  Forests,- like 
that  of  chivalry,  is  gone.  But  in  the  case  of 
ancient  India,  the  chief  obstacle  to  under- 
standing arises  from  our  bad  habit  of  always 
looking  at  the  map  with  the  North  side  up. 
Why  this  inveterate  apotheosis  of  the  North? 
Would  you  understand  the  old  Hindoos,  you 
must  turn  the  map  of  India  very  nearly  up- 
side down,  so  as  to  get  Peshawur  at  the  bot- 
tom, and  the  Andaman  Islands  exactly  at  the 
top.  And  then,  history  lies  all  before  you, 
right  side  up,  and  you  get  your  intellectual 

ix 


x  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

bearings,  and  take  in  the  early  situation,  at  a 
glance.  Entering,  like  those  old  nomads, 
through  the  Khaibar,  you  find  yourself  sud- 
denly in  the  Land  of  Streams;  and  as  you 
drift  along,  you  go,  simply  because  you  must, 
straight  on,  down  the  River  "ganging  on" 
(Gangd)  towards  the  rising  sun,  "ahead," 
(which  is  the  Sanskrit  term  for  East,)  all 
under  the  colossal  wall  of  Hills,  the  home  of 
Snow,  where  the  gods  live,  on  your  left, 
(uttara,  the  North,  the  heights;)  while  on 
the  South  (the  right  hand,  dakshina,  the 
Deccan)  you  are  debarred,  not  by  Highlands, 
but  by  two  not  less  peremptory  rebutters: 
first,  by  the  Desert,  Marusthali,  the  home  of 
death;  and  then  again,  a  little  farther  on  by 
the  Forest  of  the  South:  the  vast,  mysterious, 
impenetrable  Wood,  of  which  the  Ramayana 
preserves  for  us  the  pioneering  record  and 
original  idea,  with  its  spell  of  the  Unknown 
and  the  Adventure  (like  the  Westward  Ho! 
of  a  later  age)  with  its  Ogres  and  its  Sprites, 
its  sandal  trees  and  lonely  lotus-tarns,  its 
armies  of  ugly  little  ape-like  men,  and  its  legen- 


Introduction  xi 

dary  Lanka  (Ceylon)  lost  in  a  kind  of  halo  of 
shell-born  pearls,  and  gems,  and  their  Ten- 
headed  Devil  King,  Rawana,  away,  away,  at 
the  very  end  of  all:  so  distant,  as  to  be  little 
more  than  mythical,  little  better  than  a 
dream.  No  !  Those  who  wish  to  see  things 
with  the  eyes  of  old  Hindoos  must  not  begin, 
as  we  did,  and  do  still,  with  Ceylon,  and  the 
adjacent  coasts  of  Coromandel  and  Malabar. 
That  is  the  wrong,  the  other  end :  it  is  like 
starting  English  history  from  "the  peak  in 
Darien." 

But  our  particular  concern,  in  these  pages, 
is  with  the  Desert.  The  conventional  notion 
of  a  desert,  as  a  colourless  and  empty  flat  of 
sand,  is  curiously  unlike  the  thing  itself, 
which  is  a  constantly  changing,  kaleidoscopic 
sea  of  colour,  made  up  of  rainbow  stripes, 
black,  golden,  red,  dazzling  white,  and  blue, 
with  every  kind  of  lights  and  shadows,  strange 
hazes,  transparencies,  and  gleams.  True,  the 
ground  you  actually  tread  upon  is  bare,  but  it 
is  clothed  with  raiment  woven  by  that  magic 
artist,  Distance,  out  of  cloud   and  heat  and 


xii  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

air  and  sky.  And  so,  when  these  old  Hindoo 
people  came  to  make  a  closer  acquaintance 
with  the  Desert,  so  dangerous  to  enter,  so 
difficult,  as  Mahmood  subsequently  found, 
to  cross,  they  discovered  that,  over  and  above 
the  plain  prosaic  danger,  this  Waste  of  Sand 
laid,  like  a  very  demon,  goblin  snares  for  the 
unwary  traveller's  destruction,  in  the  form  of 
its  Mirage.  Ignorant  of  "optical  phenomena, ' ' 
they  gazed  at  this  strange  illusion,  these 
phantom  trees  and  water,  these  mocking 
semblances  of  cities  that  vanished  as  you 
reached  them,  with  astonishment,  and  even 
awe.  It  struck  their  imagination,  and  they 
gave  to  it  a  name  scarcely  less  poetical  than 
the  thing:  calling  it  "deer-water,"  or  the 
"thirst  of  the  antelope."1  Nor  was  this  all. 
For  the  apparition  was  a  kind  of  symbol, 
made  as  it  were  expressly  for  their  own 
phenomenology:  it  contained  a  moral  mean- 
ing that  harmonised  precisely  with  all  their 

1  I  am  told,  by  a  pundit  in  these  matters,  that  the  term  is 
found  at  least  as  early  as  Patanjali  (the  Mahdbhdshya) ;  that  is 
probably,  the  latter  half  of  the  second  century  B.C.,  and  hence 
it  must  have  originated  long  before. 


Introduction  xiii 

philosophical  ideas.  What  could  be  a  better 
illustration  of  that  Maya,  that  metaphysi- 
cal Delusion,  in  which  all  souls  are  wrapped, 
which  leads  them  to  impute  Reality  to  the 
Phantasms,  the  unsubstantial  objects  of  the 
senses,  and  lures  them  on  to  moral  ruin  as 
they  wander  m  the  waste?  And  accordingly, 
we  find  the  poets  constantly  recurring  to 
this  thirst  of  the  gazelle,  as  an  emblem  of  the 
treacherous  and  bewildering  fascination  of 
the  fleeting  shadows  of  this  lower  life  (ihaloka) ; 
the  beauty  that  is  hollow,  the  Bubble  of  the 
World.  And  thus,  Disappointment  is  of  the 
essence  of  Existence:  disappointment,  which 
can  come  about,  only  when  hopes  and  expec- 
tations have  been  founded  on  a  want  of 
understanding  (awiiveka) ;  a  blindness,  born 
of  Desire,  that  sets  and  keeps  its  unhappy 
victims  hunting,  in  vain,  for  what  is  not  to 
be  found. 

Especially,  essentially,  in  Love:  Love,  which 
has  its  origin  in  Dream,  its  acme  in  Ecstasy, 
and  its  catastrophe  in  Disillusion:  Love,  which 
is  life's  core  and  kernel  and  epitome,  the  focus 


xiv  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

and  quintessence  of  existence.  A  life  that  is 
without  it  has  somehow  missed  its  mark:  it 
is  meaningless  and  plotless,  "a  string  of  casual 
episodes,  like  a  bad  tragedy."  For  what, 
after  all,  is  Love?  Who  has  given  an  account 
of  it?  Plato's  fable,  which  makes  Love  the 
child  of  Satiety  and  Want,  or  Poverty  and 
Plenty,  is  a  pretty  piece  of  fancy:  it  is  clever: 
but  like  mathematics,  an  explanation  of  the 
brain  rather  than  the  heart.  Something  is 
missing.  For  Plato,  almost  always  delicate 
and  subtle,  is  never  tender:  the  reason  is, 
that  he  was  atrophied  on  the  feminine  side; 
he  does  not  consequently  understand  sex, 
being  himself  only  half  a  man — that  is,  only 
man  and  nothing  more.  But  all  the  really 
great  imaginative  men  are  bi-sexual:  they 
have  a  large  ingredient  of  woman  in  their 
composition,  which  gives  to  their  divination 
an  extra  touch  of  something  that  others  can- 
not reach.  And  so,  with  equal  poetry,  yet 
with  a  pathos  infinitely  deeper,  our  Milton 
makes  Love  the  child  of  Loneliness:1  a  par- 

1  In  his  Doctrine  and  Discipline  of  Divorce. 


Introduction  xv 

entage  evinced  by  the  terrible  melancholy 
of  Love  when  he  cannot  find  his  proper 
object,  and  the  blank  desolation  and  despair 
of  the  frightful  void  and  blackness  left  behind, 
when  he  has  lost  it.  But  now,  it  is  just  this 
intolerable  loneliness  which  makes  him  ideal- 
ise the  commonplace,  and  see  all  things  in 
the  light  of  his  own  yearning,  creating  for 
himself  visions  of  unimaginable  happiness, 
which  presently  vanish,  to  resolve  his  Eden 
into  nothing,  and  leave  him,  with  no  compan- 
ion but  the  horror  of  his  own  intensified 
isolation,  in  the  sand.  A  situation,  which 
hardly  any  lover  that  really  is  a  lover  can 
endure,  without  going  mad.  They  are  very 
shallow  theologians,  who  by  way  of  pandering 
to  sentimental  prejudices  make  the  essence 
of  the  Deity  to  consist  in  Love.  Poor  Deity! 
his  life  would  be  a  Hell,  past  all  human 
imagination:  an  everlasting  Loneliness,  with 
no  prospect  of  release.  For  it  is  pre- 
cisely to  escape  from  this  hell  that  so 
many  forlorn  lovers  take  refuge  in  the 
tomb:  a  resource  not  available  to  those  who 


xvi  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

cannot  die.     Death  is   not   always   terrible; 
sometimes  he  is  kind. 

Such  then  is  the  theme  of  Bubbles  of  the 
Foam:  a  little  love-story,  whose  title,  like  that 
of  all  her  elder  sisters,  has  in  the  original  a 
double  application,  by  reason  of  the  ambiguity 
of  the  last  word,  to  Love,  and  to  the  Moon. 
We  might  also  render  it,  A  Heavenly  Bubble, 
or  Love  is  a  Bubble,  or  Nothing  but  a  Bubble, 
or  A  Bubble  of  the  World,1  thinking  either  of 
Love  or  the  Moon.  For  the  Moon,  like  the 
goddess  of  Love,  rose  originally  from  the  sea, 
and  they  retain  traces  of  their  origin,  both  m 
their  essence  and  their  appearance.  For  what 
is  more  like  a  great  Foam-Bubble  than  the 
Moon?  and  what  is  more  like  the  delusion  of 
love  than  a  bubble  of  the  foam,  so  beautiful 
in  its  play  of  colour,  while  it  endures;  so 
evanescent,  so  hollow,  leaving  behind  it 
when  it  bursts  and  disappears  nothing  but  a 

'I  was  sorely  tempted  to  give  it  the  title  of  Mere  Foam: 
which,  if  the  reader  would  kindly  understand  mere  in  its 
German,  its  Russian,  its  Latin,  and  its  ordinary  English  sense, 
would  be  an  exact  translation.  But  it  has  an  unfortunate 
suggestion  (meerschaum)  which  made  it  impossible. 


Introduction  xvii 

memory,  and  a  bitter  taste  of  brine?  And  as 
love  is  but  a  bubble,  so  are  all  its  victims 
merely  bubbles  of  a  bubble:  for  this  also  is 
mirage. 

Mirage!  mirage!  That  is  the  keynote  of 
the  old  melancholy  Indian  music;  the  bass, 
whose  undertone  accompanies,  with  a  kind  of 
monotonous  solemnity,  all  the  treble  varia- 
tions in  the  minor  key.  The  world  is  unreal, 
a  delusion  and  a  snare;  sense  is  deception, 
happiness  a  dream ;  nothing  has  true  being,  is 
absolute,  but  virtue,  the  sole  reality;  that 
which  most  emphatically  is,1  attainable  only 
through  knowledge,  the  great  illuminator,  the 
awakener  to  the  perception  of  the  truth.  We 
move,  like  marionettes,  pulled  by  the  strings 
of  our  forgotten  antenatal  deeds,  in  a  magic 
cage,  or  Net,  of  false  and  hypocritical  momen- 
tary seemings;  and  bitter  disappointment  is 
the  inevitable  doom  of  every  soul,  that  with 
passion  for  its  guide  in  the  gloom,  thinks  to 


'Sat.     The    thesis    of    Socrates,    that   virtue   is   knowledge: 
probably    borrowed,    by  steps    that   we   cannot  trace,    through 

Pythagoras  or  "Orpheus"  fi         le  East. 


xviii  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

find  in  the  shadows  that  surround  it  any 
substance,  any  solid  satisfaction;  any  per- 
manent in  the  mutable ;  any  rest  in  the  cease- 
less revolution;  any  peace  which  the  world 
cannot  give.  Who  would  have  peace,  must 
turn  his  back  upon  the  world;  it  lies  the 
Other  Way.  Three  are  the  Ways:  the  Way 
of  the  World,  the  Way  of  Woman,  the  Way  of 
Emancipation. 

Does  anyone  in  Europe  care  about  this  last, 
this  Way  of  Emancipation?  No;  it  is  Liberty 
that  preoccupies  the  European,  who  about  a 
century  ago  seemed,  like  the  old  Athenian, 
suddenly  to  catch  sight  of  Liberty  in  a  dream. x 
And  yet,  who  knows?  For  Europe  also  is 
disappointed:  there  seems,  after  all,  to  be 
something  lacking  to  this  Liberty,  something 
wrong.  With  her  Utopias  ending  in  blind 
alleys,  or  issues  unforeseen;  with  sages  dis- 
covered to  be  less  sages  than  they  seemed; 
with  her  Science  turning  superstitious,  her 
Literature  wallowing  in  the  gutter,  and  her 
women  descending  from  the  pedestal  of  sex 

1 6vap  fKevdepias  bpwvras.      Plutarch. 


Introduction  xix 

to  play  the  virago  in  the  contamination 
of  the  crowd;  with  so  many  other  things, 
not  here  to  be  considered,  to  raise  a  doubt 
whether  this  Liberty  is  taking  her  just 
where  she  wished  to  go,  what  wonder  if 
even  Europe  should  begin  to  meditate  on 
means  of  emancipation,  even  if  only  from 
vulgarity,  and  steal  a  furtive  glance  or  two 
towards  the  East,  to  see,  whether,  by  diligently 
raking  in  the  ashes  of  ancient  Oriental  creeds, 
she  might  not  discover  here  and  there  a  spark, 
at  which  to  rekindle  the  expiring  candle  of 
her  own.  For  there  seems  to  be  some  curi- 
ous indestructible  asbestos,  some  element  of 
perennial,  imperturbable  tranquillity  and 
calm,  away  in  India,  which  is  conspicuous 
only  by  its  absence,  in  the  worry  of  the  West. 
Where  does  it  come  from?  What  does  it 
consist  in?  Is  there  a  secret  which  India  has 
discovered,  which  Europe  cannot  guess?  Is 
there  anything  in  it,  after  all,  but  barbaric 
superstition,  destined  to  fade  away  and  dis- 
appear, in  the  sunrise  of  omniscience? 

I  cannot  tell:  but  well  I  recollect  a  fugitive 


xx  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

impression  left  on  me  by  an  early  morning  in 
Benares,  now  many  years  ago.  I  threaded 
its  extraordinary  streets,  narrower  than  the 
needle's  eye,  and  crowded  with  strange, 
lithe,  nearly  naked  human  beings,  with  black, 
straight,  long  wet  hair,  and  brown  shining 
skins,  jostled  at  every  step  by  holy  bulls 
or  cows,  roaming  at  their  own  sweet  will, 
with  large  placid,  lustrous  eyes,  in  an  atmo- 
sphere heavy  with  the  half-delicious,  half-re- 
pulsive odour  of  innumerable  flowers,  mostly 
yellow,  that  lay  about  everywhere  in  heaps, 
fresh  and  rotten,  till  I  came  out  finally  upon 
the  river  bank.  A  light  steamy  mist,  con- 
verted by  the  low  sun's  horizontal  rays 
into  a  kind  of  reddish-golden  veil,  hung  in  the 
quiet  air,  lending  an  almost  magical  effect  to 
the  long  row  of  great  temples,  whose  steps 
run  down  into  the  river,  along  the  northern 
bank;  half  of  them  in  ruins,  and  looking  as 
if  they  must  presently  slide  away  into  the 
water  and  disappear.  And  as  I  floated  slowly 
down,  I  watched  with  curiosity,  half  wondering 
if  I  was  dreaming,  the  throng  of  devotees, 


Introduction  xxi 

sitting,  lying,  gliding  here  and  there,  like 
an  antique  procession  on  an  old  Greek  frieze 
or  vase;  some  muttering  and  praying,  others 
bathing,  others  again  standing  motionless 
as  statues  in  the  stream,  buried  in  a  sort  of 
samddhi  meditation:  every  outline  of  every 
attitude,  in  that  clear  Indian  air,  as  sharp 
as  if  cut  with  scissors  out  of  paper.  And 
lying  close  beside,  cheek  by  jowl  with  the 
bodies  still  alive,  the  ashes  of  dead  bodies 
just  burned  or  still  burning  on  the  Ghat. 
Life  and  Death  touching,  running  into  one 
another,  and  nobody  amazed:  all  as  it  should 
be,  and  a  matter  of  course! 

England  and  India,  bureaucracy,  democ- 
racy, sedition,  education,  politics  and  Dur- 
bars; the  world  with  all  its  tumult  and  its 
roaring  passes  clean  over  their  heads,  un- 
heeded, unobserved;  for  them  the  noise  and 
bustle  do  not  matter,  do  not  trouble;  they  do 
not  hear,  they  do  not  listen,  they  do  not  even 
care.  It  is  curious,  this  peace,  this  indifference, 
this  calm;  it  does  not  seem  reality;  it  is  like 
a  thing  looked  at  in  a  picture,  like  a  dream. 


xxii  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

And,  somehow,  as  I  gazed  at  it,  mechanically 
there  came  into  my  mind,  as  it  were  of  its 
own  accord,  a  story  I  had  read,  in  some  old 
navigator's  "yarn,"  of  the  albatross,  sleep- 
ing on  the  great  South  Sea,  in  the  fury  of  a 
storm,  with  its  head  beneath  its  wing. 

Ceylon,  191 2. 


A  SPOILED  CHILD 


A  SPOILED  CHILD 

BENEDICTION 

A  bow  to  the  mystical  evening  dance  of  the 
Rider  on  the  Mouse,1  who  whirling  round  his 
elephant  trunk,  smeared  with  wet  vermilion, 
suddenly  shoots  it  straight  up  into  the  purple 
sky,  and  stands  for  a  single  instant  still,  poised 
in  the  yellow  twilight,  as  if  to  make  a  coral 
handle  for  the  white  umbrella  of  the  laughing 
Moon. 


There  is,  in  the  western  quarter,  a  land 
of  lonely  desolation,  that  resembles  a  very 
sea,  but  of  sand  instead  of  brine,  and  rightly 
named  Marusthali,  being  a  very  home  of 
death,  sending  back  to  the  midday  sun  rays 

'Gancsha. 

3 


4  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

hotter  than  his  own,  and  challenging  the  mid- 
night sky,  with  silent  ashy  laughter,  as 
though  to  say:  What  am  I  but  the  rival  and 
reflection  of  thyself,  with  bones  instead  of 
stars,  and  tracks  of  wasted  skeletons  instead 
of  a  Milky  Way.  And  there,  upon  a  day, 
it  came  about  that  Maheshwara  was  roam- 
ing with  Parwati  in  his  arms.  And  as  they 
floated  swiftly  on,  over  the  dusty  waste,  they 
watched  their  own  huge  shadows  sweeping 
like  forms  of  clouds  across  the  burning 
sand,  exactly  underneath,  for  it  was  noon; 
and  the  surface  of  the  desert  shook  and 
quivered  in  the  stillness,  as  if  the  wind,  asleep, 
had,  like  a  tired  traveller,  sought  refuge 
from  the  fury  of  the  sun  above  their  heads. 
And  all  at  once,  the  Daughter  of  the  Snow 
exclaimed:  See,  there  is  the  mirage!  Let  us 
descend,  and  sit  for  a  little  while  upon  the 
sand;  for  I  love  to  watch  this  wonder,  which 
resembles  in  its  far  faint  blue  the  colour  of  a 
dream.  And  accordingly,  to  do  her  pleasure, 
Maheshwara  sank  softly  to  the  earth,  settling 
on  it  like  a  cloud  gently  resting  on  a  hill. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  5 

So  as  they  looked,  after  a  while,  that  slen- 
der goddess  said  again :  Surely  it  is  a  shame, 
and  well  may  the  poor  antelopes  be  mistaken 
and  deceived.  For  who  could  believe  yonder 
water  to  be  only  an  illusion?  And  when  the 
eyes  of  even  gods  are  bewildered  by  the  cheat, 
how  much  more  the  eyes  of  thirsty  and  un- 
reflecting little  deer! 

Then  the  Moony-crested  deity  said  slowly: 
O  Daughter  of  the  Snow,  thy  own  reflection 
on  this  beautiful  illusion  is  the  truth.  And 
yet,  well  were  it  for  the  world,  were  its  illusion 
limited  only  to  its  eyes,  not  extending,  as  it 
actually  does,  to  its  understanding  also.  For 
this  deceptive  picture  on  the  sand  is  far  inferior 
in  power  and  importance  to  the  bewildering 
delusion  of  this  world  below,  fluttering  about, 
whose  shifting,  dancing  light,  like  moths 
about  a  wind-blown  torch,  men  singe  their 
silly  souls,  and,  burning  off  their  wings,  drop 
helpless,  maimed  and  mutilated,  into  the 
black  gulf  of  birth  and  death,  and  lose 
emancipation;  till,  after  countless  ages,  their 
wings  begin  to  sprout  and  grow  again,  under 


6  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

the  influence  of  works.  Yet  they  who  after 
all  emerge,  and  soar  away,  unburdened  even 
by  an  atom  of  the  guilt  that  weighs  them 
down,  and  brings  them  back  into  the  vortex 
of  rebirth,  are  very  few.  And  yonder  bones, 
now  lying  in  the  sand,  could  they  but  rise  and 
speak,  would  be  a  proof  of  what  I  say. 

And  the  goddess  looked,  and  saw,  close 
by,  a  little  heap  of  bones,  that  lay  half -buried 
in  the  sand.  And  she  said  with  curiosity: 
Whose  are  the  bones,  and  how  are  they  a 
proof  of  thy  consideration? 

And  Maheshwara  replied :  These  are  bones, 
not  of  a  man,  but  of  a  camel,  that  perished 
in  the  desert  long  ago.  For  into  this  body 
of  a  camel  fell  the  soul  of  which  I  spoke,  in 
punishment  of  crimes  committed  in  the  birth 
before,  in  the  body  of  a  man;  who,  blinded 
by  passion,  slew  three  of  his  fellow  mortals; 
as,  if  thou  wilt,  I  will  tell  thee  while  we  sit, 
watching  the  illusion  of  the  senses,  that  so 
closely  represents  the  illusion  of  the  souls  of 
the  lovers  in  the  tale. 


II 


Know,  then,  that  once  upon  a  time,  long 
ago,  all  the  gods  had  assembled  in  the  hall 
of  Indra's  palace,  to  listen  to  a  singing 
competition  that  took  place  among  the  Gand- 
harwas.  And  all  sat  listening  attentively, 
till  at  length,  all  at  once  came  a  pause  in  the 
performance.  And  in  the  silence,  while  all 
the  heavenly  singers  rested,  it  so  fell  out, 
by  the  decree  of  destiny,  that  the  flowery- 
arrowed  god,  ■  striving  to  recollect  a  cadence 
that  had  pleased  him,  hummed  it  as  well  as 
he  could,  over  again,  aloud;  and  like  the 
unskilful  imitator  that  he  was,  played  havoc 
with  his  model,  stumbling  at  the  quarter 
tones,  and  singing  flat.  And  out  of  deli- 
i  icy  and  politeness,  the  gods  all  turned 
away  their  faces,  hiding  their  smiles,  except 

1  It.,  the  god  of  love,  KYunadcwa. 

7 


8  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

Brahma, '  whose  face  never  moved.  But  Kam- 
adewa,  looking  up  suddenly,  caught  the  vestige 
of  a  smile,  hovering,  just  before  it  disappeared, 
on  the  corner  of  the  lips  of  Saraswati,  as  if  it 
were  unwilling  to  leave  a  resting-place  so  unut- 
terably sweet  as  that  lovely  lady '  s  mouth .  And 
instantly,  he  turned  red  and  pale  alternately, 
with  rage  that  followed  shame:  so  little  does 
he  who  delights  in  making  others  blush  like 
doing  it  himself.  And  suddenly  taking  fire, 
he  cried  aloud:  Ha!  dost  thou  turn  me  into 
ridicule,  O  thou  malapert  blue-stocking?3 
Then  will  I  curse  thee  for  thy  pains.  Fall 
instantly  into  a  lower  birth,  and  suffer  an- 
guish in  the  form  of  a  mortal  woman,  for  thy 
presumption  and  ill-mannered  mirth. 

And  instantly,  all  the  other  gods,  hearing 
him,  broke  out  into  a  very  storm  of  indig- 
nation.    And    buzzing    like    infuriated    bees 

1  It  would  have  been  useless  for  Brahma  to  turn  away  his 
face,  since  he  has  four — one  on  every  side. 

3  Kapanditd,  the  exact  equivalent  of  our  word.  Saraswati 
is  the  Hindoo  Pallas  Athene;  with  this  distinction  in  her  favour, 
that  she  is  as  gentle  as  the  Greek  lady  is  the  reverse.  The  flava 
virago  of  Ovid  becomes  in  India  a  lotus  white  and  pure  as  her 
own  celestial  smile. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  9 

around  one  who  seeks  to  rob  them  of  their 
honey,  they  swarmed  about  that  god  of  love, 
exclaiming  all  together:  What!  shall  Heaven 
be  bereft,  even  for  a  very  little  while,  of 
the  very  crest-jewel  of  its  brow,  because  of 
thy  loss  of  self-control,  and  a  fault  on  her 
part  which  was  not  a  fault  at  all,  but  only 
the  appropriate  reproof  of  thy  ill-advised 
endeavour  to  play  the  musician  without 
possessing  the  necessary  skill?  And  there 
arose  a  tumult  in  the  hall;  and,  finally,  they 
made  me  arbitrator  to  settle  the  dispute, 
knowing  that  Ananga  was  afraid  of  me,  as 
well  might  he  be.1  And  so,  after  all  were 
silent,  I  spoke.  And  I  said,  very  slowly: 
O  bender  of  that  bow,  whose  string  is  a  row 
of  bees,  thou  art  surely  altogether  inexcus- 
able, first  for  thy  singing,  and  secondly  for 
thy  loss  of  temper,  and  finally  for  thy 
curse.  For  who  could  be  so  harsh  as  to 
strike  Saraswati,  even  with  a  shirisha  petal? 
But    now,    the    mischief    is    utterly    beyond 

1  Bo  v.  ira  had  burned  him,  on  a  previous  occasion, 

with  fire  from  his  eye. 


io  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

repair,  and  once  spoken,  the  curse  cannot 
be  recalled.1  And  whether  she  will  or  no, 
she  must  now  go  to  earth,  and  leave  us 
for  a  time,  till  thy  curse  has  spent  its  force. 
And  yet,  for  all  that,  it  is  not  right  that 
the  doer  of  injustice  such  as  thine  should 
escape  scot-free.  Therefore  now  I  will  give 
thee  curse  for  curse,  and  thou  shalt  eat  the 
fruit  of  thy  own  tree.  Fall  then,  immediately 
into  the  body  of  a  man,  and  suffer  that 
mortality  which  thou  hast  laid  upon  Saraswati. 
And  thy  fortune  shall  be  interwoven  with 
her  own,  so  that  thy  curse  shall  be  determined 
by  the  quality  and  period  of  hers. 

And  then,  as  he  listened  to  my  doom, 
Kamadewa  turned  paler  than  the  ashes  to 
which  I  had  reduced  him  long  ago,  finding 
himself  punished  for  his  insolence  by  me,  for 
the  second  time.  But  the  gods  all  exclaimed, 
with  approbation  and  delight:  Victory  to 
Maheshwara!  who  has  once  more  bitten  the 
biter,   and  condemned  him,   by    a    sentence 

1  In  these  and  similar  ideas,  the  Hindoos  resembled  the  ancient 
Romans:  the  letter  was  decisive  and  irremediable,  uti  lingua 
nuncupassit,  ita  jus  esto. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  u 

even  more  merciful  than  he  deserved.  For 
what  could  be  more  intolerable  than  even 
Heaven  without  Saraswati,  unless  it  be  the 
curse  that  is  about  to  produce  such  a  melan- 
choly condition  of  affairs?1 

And  then,  those  two  deities  disappeared 
suddenly  from  Heaven,  and  descended  to 
be  born  as  man  and  woman  on  the  earth.1 

1  This  exordium,  which  has  points  of  resemblance  with  that 
of  the  insufferable  Bana's  Harsha-charita,  is  only  the  Hindoo 
method  of  declaring  that  the  two  characters  presently  to  be 
brought  upon  the  scene  are  mortal  incarnations  of  love  and 
charm,  as  we  call  a  man  an  Adonis,  or  a  woman  a  Venus. 


Ill 


Now  just  at  that  very  moment,  it  happened, 
that  there  were  living  in  the  desert  two 
Rajpoots  of  the  race  of  the  Moon;  and  the 
name  of  the  one  was  Bimba,  and  that  of 
the  other,  Jay  a.1  And  Saraswati  was  born 
as  the  daughter  of  the  wife  of  Bimba,  while 
Kamadewa  was  born  as  the  son  of  the  wife 
of  Jaya.  Now  Bimba  was  a  king,  and  Jaya 
was  his  cousin  on  the  mother's  side.  And 
very  soon  afterwards,  Jaya  set  upon  his 
cousin,  laying  claim  to  the  throne,  and, 
driving  him  away,  took  his  kingdom,  and 
kept  it  for  himself.  And  he  caught  the 
wife  of  Bimba,  and  put  her  to  death,  as 
he  would  have  done  also  with  her  daughter 
and  her  husband.     But  Bimba  succeeded  in 

1  I.e.,  the  disc  of  the  moon,  and  victory.  Pronounce  Jaya  to 
rhyme  with  eye. 

12 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  13 

escaping  with  his  daughter,  and  ran  away 
and  hid  himself.  So  Jaya  remained  in  tri- 
umph, reigning  over  the  kingdom,  whose 
capital  stood  on  the  very  spot  on  which 
we  are  sitting  now.  For  the  kingdoms  of 
the  earth  come  and  go  upon  it,  like  the 
shadows  of  the  clouds ;  and  they  grow  up 
suddenly  like  grass,  and  perish  a  little  later, 
and  vanish  clean  away,  leaving  behind  them 
absolutely  nothing  but  mounds,  such  as  those 
now  lying  all  about  thee,  and  fragments  of 
recollections,  and  half-forgotten  names,  like 
the  dreams  of  the  night  which  morning  ob- 
literates and  drives  away,  vaguely  hanging  in 
its  memory,  like  wreaths  of  mist  curling  and 
twisting  on  the  black  still  surface  of  a  pool 
in  some  dark  valley  screened  from  the  early 
sun  by  one  of  thy  father's1  peaks. 

And  of  all  the  elements  that  made  up 
Jaya's  good  fortune,  there  was  not  one 
which  filled  him  with  such  pride  and  ex- 
ultation as  his  son.  And  he  looked  upon 
him  as  the  very  fruit  of  his  birth  in  visible 

1  I.e.,  the  Himalaya. 


14  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

form,  little  dreaming,  that  could  he  but  have 
looked  into  the  future,  and  seen  what  was 
coming,  he  would  rather  have  deemed  himself 
more  fortunate  to  live  and  die  without  any 
son  at  all,  than  to  have  begotten  such  a  son 
as  he  actually  had.  For  sons  resemble  winds, 
which  sometimes  lift  their  families  like  clouds 
to  heaven,  and  sometimes  dash  them  to  the 
earth,  like  hail. 

For  having  waited  so  long  to  get  a  son  at 
all,  till  hope  was  all  but  gone,  the  joy  of  both 
his  parents,  when  he  actually  arrived,  was  so 
extravagantly  great,  that  they  could  not  make 
too  much  of  him.  And  as  he  grew  up,  they 
spoiled  him  so  completely,  by  the  want  of  all 
discretion  in  their  admiration  and  the  flattery 
of  their  affectionate  caresses,  that  after  a  while 
he  became  utterly  intolerable,  even  to  them- 
selves. And  this  came  about,  not  only  by 
reason  of  their  own  foolishness,  but  also  by 
the  very  disposition  and  qualities  of  that  son 
himself.  For  he  was  so  marvellously  beauti- 
ful, that  every  time  they  saw  him,  they  could 
hardly  believe  their  own  eyes,  and  were  ready 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  15 

to  abandon  the  body  out  of  joy.  And  in  the 
intoxication  of  delight  they  gave  him  the  name 
of  Atirupa,  ■  which  was  no  more  than  he  de- 
served. And  he  became  a  byword  and  a  won- 
der in  the  world,  till  the  heart  of  his  mother 
almost  broke  with  the  swelling  of  its  own 
pride.  For  nothing  like  him  had  ever  been 
seen  by  anybody,  even  in  a  dream,  since  his 
beauty  did  not  in  the  least  resemble  that  of 
other  men,  but  hovered  as  it  were  half-way  be- 
tween one  sex  and  the  other,  as  if  the  Creator 
when  he  made  him,  unable  to  decide  whether 
to  make  of  him  a  man  or  a  woman,  had  com- 
bined, by  some  miracle  of  omnipotence  and 
skill,  the  fascinations  of  the  two.  For  though 
he  was  tall  and  strong,  yet  strange!  his  body 
and  his  limbs  were  rounded,  and  delicately 
shaped,  and  slender.with  soft  and  tender  hands 
and  feet  that  were  almost  too  small,  even  for  a 
girl;  and  as  he  moved,  he  fell  as  if  by  accident 
into  attitudes  that  as  it  were  imitated  un- 
consciously the  careless  grace  of  Shri,2  caught 

'  I  •    ,  "f  extraordinary  and  surpassingbeauty.  Pninmim  t  I'tlinip.i. 
'The  Hindoo  Aphrodite. 


16  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

unaware  when  she  thinks  that  there  is  nobody 
to  look  at  her,  and  carved  by  a  cunning  sculp- 
tor in  stone  upon  a  temple  wall;  so  that 
the  eyes  of  all  followed  him  as  if  against 
their  will,  drawn  to  him  by  an  involuntary 
admiration  that  they  could  not  understand, 
not  realising  that  in  his  case  only,  the 
beauty  of  their  own  sex  was  reinforced  and, 
as  it  were,  reduplicated  with  the  magic  of 
a  spell,  by  the  mysterious  and  additional 
fascination  of  the  other.  And  his  face  was 
so  strange  that  whoever  saw  it,  started, 
and  fell,  after  a  little  while,  into  a  kind 
of  dream.  And  yet  this  was  not  merely  by 
reason  of  its  beauty,  though  that  beauty 
was  excessive,  resembling  a  vision  seen  sud- 
denly in  the  water  by  a  Dryad,  musing  at 
midnight  by  a  moonlit  pool,  with  eyes  that 
resembled  the  reflections  of  the  shadows  of  the 
lotuses,  and  eyebrows  that  met  together,  in 
the  middle  of  his  brow,  each  drawn  exactly  in 
imitation  of  the  other,  like  a  lotus-fibre  half 
in  and  half  out  of  water,  and  lips  that  were 
almost    too   red,    resembling    that   love-sick 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  17 

nymph's  own  pair  of  bimba  lips,  mirrored1  in 
the  clear  black  water,  and  dying  to  be  kissed  by 
others  like  themselves.  But  wonderful!  the 
Creator  had  put  into  his  face  some  ingredient 
of  recollection,  so  that  without  knowing  why, 
every  beholder  found  himself  plunged,  as  it 
were,  into  the  agitation  of  dreamy  reminis- 
cence, and  said  within  himself:  Ha!  now,  some- 
where or  other,  in  this  birth  or  another,  I  have 
seen  that  miracle  of  a  face  before.  And  each 
went  away  with  a  heart  that  was  unwilling  to 
depart,  haunted  as  it  were  by  dim  desire  for 
something,  he  knew  not  what,  stirring  in  the 
depths  of  his  memory  that  he  could  not  re- 
member and  yet  had  not  forgotten,  like  the 
thirst  for  the  repetition  of  the  sweetness  of 
a  bygone  dream/  And  all  the  more,  because 
his  voice  resembled  a  music  that  was  playing 
a  melody  suggested  by  the  theme  of  his  face. 
For  it  was  low  and  soft,  like  that  of  a  woman, 

1  There  is  here  an  untranslatable  play  on  bimba,  the  fruit  (as 
ay,  cherry  lip),  an<l  (>ratibimtni,  a  reflection  in  the  water. 

1  All  this  dcjH.-n<ls  Ofl  an  elaborate  play  Ofl  the  double  meaning 
of  Smara,  a  name  for  the  God  of  Love,  which  mean  ;  memory  as 
well  as  love. 


18  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

and  yet  deep,  like  that  of  a  man:  and  it 
seemed  to  be  made  of  sound  stolen  from  the 
pipe  of  Krishna,  in  order  to  enable  itself  to 
steal  away  the  senses  of  the  world;  so  that, 
as  he  spoke,  the  listener  gradually  grew  be- 
wildered by  its  tone,  resembling  a  tired  travel- 
ler, falling  little  by  little  unconsciously  to 
sleep  as  he  sits  in  the  murmur  of  a  mountain 
stream.  And  whenever  he  chose,  he  could 
cajole  his  hearer,  and  make  him  do  almost 
anything  whatever,  so  hard  was  it  to  resist 
the  irresistible  persuasion  that  lurked,  like  the 
caressing  touch  of  a  gentle  woman's  hand,  in 
the  tone  of  that  quiet  and  insinuating  voice. 
And  yet,  all  this  beauty  was  nothing  but  a 
mask,  and  a  lie:  and  so  far  from  expressing 
the  nature  of  that  soul  which  it  covered  and 
disguised,  it  actually  added  evil  to  its  original 
defect;  and  he  resembled  a  bamboo,  looking 
like  a  very  incarnation  of  loveliness  and  sym- 
metry outside,  and  singing  in  the  wind,  and 
yet  absolutely  hollow  and  without  a  heart, 
within.  For  from  the  very  moment  he  was 
born,  he  did  exactly  as  he  pleased,  and  noth- 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  19 

ing  else,  being  as  capricious  as  the  breeze  that 
blows  only  as  it  chooses.  For  beginning  with 
his  parents,  nobody  ever  crossed  him,  or  placed 
any  obstacle  whatever  in  the  path  of  his  de- 
sires, which  grew  up  accordingly  like  a  very 
rank  jungle  impervious  to  the  light,  in  which 
his  will  wandered  like  a  wild  young  tiger-cub, 
wayward  and  passionate,  and  absolutely  un- 
controlled. And  he  gave  in  to  others,  and 
was  guided  by  them,  in  one  point  only,  and 
that  was  in  their  extravagant  admiration  of 
himself.  For  finding  others  worship  him,  he 
fell  in  with  their  opinion,  and  followed  their 
example :  and  became  as  it  were  the  devotee  at 
the  shrine  of  his  own  beauty,  making  it  a  deity 
to  which  every  other  thing  or  body  was  only 
fitted  to  be  sacrificed.  And  he  filled  his  rooms 
with  mirrors  of  many  colours,  made  of  crystal 
and  lapiz-lazuli,  and  polished  gold  and  silver, 
and  the  water  of  tanks  whose  slabs  were  of 
marble  of  every  variety  of  hue;  and  he  used  to 
sit  alone,  when  he  had  nothing  else  to  do,  for 
hours,  watching  his  own  image  that  seemed  to 
offer  him  reciprocally  worship  as  he  watched 


20  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

it,  as  if  it  were  doubtful  which  of  the  two,  the 
reality  or  its  reflection,  was  the  deity,  and 
which  the  devotee. 

And  gradually  the  world  with  all  its  objects 
came  to  appear  in  his  eyes  as  nothing  but  a 
playground,  and  all  its  men  and  women  mere- 
ly his  own  animated  toys.  And  from  being 
utterly  indifferent  to  everything  but  his  own 
momentary  pleasure  and  caprice,  he  became, 
little  by  little,  first  callous  to  the  sufferings 
of  others,  and  finally  positively  cruel,  finding 
his  amusement  in  making  others  victims  to 
his  own  peremptory  desires.  And  his  appetite, 
like  a  fire,  grew  with  the  fuel  that  it  fed  upon, 
till  it  resembled  voracity  and  an  intolerable 
thirst  for  more.  But  as  long  as  he  remained 
still  a  child,  the  fire,  remaining  as  it  were 
without  its  proper  aliment,  lay  hidden,  till 
he  grew  into  a  man.  And  then,  all  at  once, 
it  blazed  out  furiously  like  a  very  conflagra- 
tion, striking  terror  into  all  the  subjects  of  the 
kingdom,  and  threatening  to  consume  them 
all,  like  forest  trees  and  grass. 

For  whereas,  till  then,  the  fury  of  his  self- 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  21 

will  had  been  scattered,  for  want  of  concen- 
tration1 on  one  object  only,  manhood,  like  a 
flash  of  lightning,  suddenly  revealed  to  him 
that  very  object,  in  the  form  of  woman;  and 
he  discovered,  in  the  storm  of  his  delight, 
that  women  were  the  very  victims  for  whom 
he  had  been  blindly  groping  in  the  darkness 
all  his  life.  And  he  threw  himself  upon  them, 
like  a  prey,  finding  with  intoxication  that  the 
Creator  had  framed  him  as  a  weapon  con- 
structed wholly  for  their  destruction.  And 
he  said  to  himself,  in  triumph:  I  am,  as  it 
seems,  a  magnetic  gem,  omnipotent  and  ir- 
resistible, to  whose  attraction  the  entire  sex 
succumbs  inevitably,  like  grass.  And  this 
opinion  was  justified  by  the  conduct  of  the 
women  themselves.  For  every  woman  that 
set  eyes  on  him,  no  matter  who  she  was, 
fell  instantly,  like  a  stone  dropped  into  a  well 
without  a  bottom,  into  the  abyss  of  infatua- 
tion, and  utterly  forgot  not  only  her  relations 
and   her  home,   but   her  honour  and   herself 

'Yoga.      Tl  of   truth,   and   it   is  a   large  one,   in   the 

philosophy  of    Yoga    i  trine,   which    is    proved    by  all 

erienee,  that  concentration  is  the  secret  of  mastery. 


22  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

and  everything  in  the  three  worlds,  seized  as 
it  were  by  the  very  frenzy  of  devotion,  and 
anxious  only  to  immolate  herself  as  a  victim  on 
the  altar  of  his  divinity.  And  strange !  though 
he  treated  them  all  as  more  worthless  than 
grass,  throwing  them  away  almost  in  the  in- 
stant that  he  saw  them,  not  one  of  them  all  ever 
took  warning  by  the  fate  of  her  predecessors: 
and  so  far  were  they  from  shunning  him  as  the 
common  enemy  of  their  entire  sex,  that  on  the 
contrary,  they  seemed  to  struggle  with  one  an- 
other for  the  prize  of  his  momentary  affection, 
the  more,  the  more  openly  he  derided  them;  as 
if  even  his  derision  and  the  cheapness  in  which 
he  openly  held  them,  increased  the  power  of  his 
charm.  Ha!  very  wonderful  is  the  contradic- 
tion in  the  heart  of  a  woman,  and  bitter  the 
irony  of  the  Creator  that  fashioned  it  out  of  so 
curious  an  antagonism!  For  she  flies  to  the 
man  who  makes  light  of  her,  as  if  pulled  by  a 
cord;  while  she  utterly  despises  the  man  who 
thinks  himself  nothing  in  comparison  with  her ; 
saying  as  it  were,  by  her  own  behaviour,  that 
she  is  absolutely  worthless  in  her  own  esteem. 


IV 


So  then,  after  a  while,  the  heart  of  King 
Jaya  broke  within  him.  For  he  became  odi- 
ous in  the  eyes  of  all  his  subjects  by  reason  of 
the  behaviour  of  his  son,  who  paid  no  more  re- 
gard to  his  admonitions  than  a  mad  elephant 
does  to  a  rope  of  grass.  And  he  died,  con- 
sumed by  the  two  fires  of  a  burning  fever  and 
a  devouring  grief:  and  his  wife  followed  him 
through  the  flames  of  yet  another  fire,  as  if 
to  say:  I  will  die  no  other  death  than  his  own. 

And  when  the  funeral  obsequies  had  been 

completed,  there  came  a  day,  soon  after,  when 

Atirupa  was  sitting  in  his  palace,  with  some  of 

his  attendants  round  him,  gazing  at  his  own 

image,  that  was  reflected  in  a  tiny  mirror  set 

on  his  finger  in  a  ring.     And  he  was  plunged 

in  the  contemplation  of  himself,  shadowed  by 

a  melancholy   that  arose,   not  from  grief  at 

23 


24  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

the  loss  of  his  parents,  but  dejection  caused 
by  the  gloom  of  the  period  of  mourning:  and 
as  he  sat,  he  said  within  himself:  I  am  losing 
time,  and  growing  old,  and  letting  the  oppor- 
tunity slip  by  me  unimproved,  and  this  bloom 
of  mine  is  wasted,  and,  as  it  were,  lying  idle, 
for  want  of  its  proper  mirror,  which  is  not 
this  ring,  but  a  pair  of  new  eyes,  which  would 
look  back  at  my  own,  not  as  this  does,  va- 
cantly and  without  a  soul,  but  lit  up  by  the 
soft  lustre  of  passion  and  admiration.  And  all 
at  once,  he  started  up,  and  exclaimed  aloud: 
What!  do  ye  all  sit  easily,  when  I  am  dying 
for  lack  of  recreation?  Know  ye  not  that 
even  the  jackal  is  in  danger  when  the  lion  is 
left  without  a  prey?  Even  now  I  am  de- 
bating with  myself  whether  it  would  not  be 
a  good  thing  to  have  one  of  you  chosen  by 
lot,  and  trampled  by  an  elephant,  to  be  a 
lesson  to  the  rest. 

And  then,  as  they  all  gazed  at  him  with 
anxiety,  each  fearing  for  himself,  he  looked 
at  their  confusion,  as  if  with  enjoyment, 
and  said  again:    What,   with  so  many  idle 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  25 

all  about  me,  am  I,  forsooth,  to  sit  waiting, 
for  fortune  to  come  to  me,  like  an  abhisarikd, 
of  her  own  accord?  Nay,  it  were  well  enough, 
could  I  even  see  coming  towards  me  an  abhis- 
arikd of  any  kind.  But  the  women  of  this 
city  grow,  as  it  seems,  older  and  more  ugly 
every  day:  for  I  have  skimmed  its  cream, 
and  now  nothing  is  left  but  curd,  and  dregs, 
and  whey,  and  like  the  ocean  after  its  churn- 
ing, all  its  treasures  are  exhausted,  leaving 
nothing  but  crocodiles  and  monsters,  and 
bitterness,  and  brine. 

So  then,  wishing  to  cajole  him,  one  of 
them  replied:  Maharaj,  were  this  city  as 
full  of  beauties  as  the  very  sea  of  gems,  how 
could  any  one  of  them  come  to  thee  in  broad 
daylight?  For  is  it  not  laid  down  in  all  the 
Shastras,  that  even  an  abhisarikd,  ■  were  she 
dying  for  her  lover,  must  notwithstanding 
observe  times  and  seasons,  choosing  for  her 
expedition    only    proper    opportunities,    such 

1  There  is  a  ludicrous  pedantry  about  the  elaborate  categoric 
of   Hill  'hey  make  grammatical  rules  even  for  evciy 

department  of  eiUti  i:  as  if  it  were  necessary  for  ladies  to  learn 
the  grammar  of  the  subject,  before  they  could  make  low! 


26  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

as  are  afforded  by  a  winter  night,  or  a  dense 
fog,  or  the  confusion  caused  by  a  whirlwind 
or  an  earthquake  or  an  uproar,  or  a  revolution 
in  the  state,  or  an  illness  of  the  king,  or  a  festi- 
val, when  all  the  citzens  are  drunk,  or  sleeping, 
or  when  the  city  is  on  fire.  But  as  it  is,  not 
one  of  these  occasions  is  present,  to  enable 
her  to  come  to  thee  escaping  observation. 
And  a  woman  of  good  family  is  very  different 
from  a  dancing  girl.  For  when  she  leaves 
her  home,  on  such  an  assignation,  she  wraps 
herself  up,  disguising  her  identity,  and  creeps 
along  timidly  making  herself  small,  wishing 
even  darkness  darker,  in  addition  to  the  screen 
provided  by  all  the  other  circumstances  that 
favour  her  attempt. 

And  Atirupa  said:  There  is  no  difficulty 
in  this:  for  could  I  think  that  there  was  even 
one  woman  in  the  city  awaiting  such  an  op- 
portunity, who  was  worthy  of  it,  I  would 
very  soon  oblige  her,  by  burning  the  city  to 
the  ground,  reducing  it  to  ashes  for  her  con- 
venience and  my  own. 

And  all  at  once,  one  answered  from  behind, 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  27 

who  had  entered  as  he  spoke,  unobserved: 
Ha!  Maharuj,  then,  as  it  seems,  I  am  come 
in  the  very  nick  of  time,  to  save  thy  city  from 
such  a  miserable  end. 

And  Atirupa  turned,  and  exclaimed  joy- 
fully: Ha!  Chamu,1  art  thou  returned?  I 
was  beginning  to  think  thee  lost,  like  a  stone 
dropped  to  the  very  bottom  of  the  sea.  And 
Chamu  said:  Thou  art  right:  for  I  am  like 
the  oyster,  and  contain  a  pearl. 

And  he  looked  at  Atirupa,  and  laughed, 
rubbing  his  hands  together,  with  cunning 
in  his  eyes,  that  resembled  those  of  a  weasel. 
And  he  said:  Maharaj,  as  I  entered,  I  heard 
thee  wishing  for  Shri2  to  visit  thee  in  the  form 
of  an  abhisarikd;  and  lo!  here  she  is,  in  my 
form.  And  do  not  despise  her  on  account 
of  my  deformity:  for  Shri  is  a  lady,  and  ca- 
pricious, and  comes  in  strange  disguises.  Thou 
knowest,  that  the  city  being  dismal  by  reason 
of  the  obsequies,  I  seized  my  opportunity, 
and  went   away  on   a  visit  to  my  maternal 

'  Pronounce    Chummoo. 

'The  goddess  of  Fortune  ami  Beauty.  She  is  the  very  in- 
carnation of  the  abhuankd,  since  she  comes  of  her  own  accord. 


28  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

uncle,  who  lives  far  off  in  a  village  in  the  wood 
that  lies  in  the  eastern  quarter.  And  on  my 
journey  back,  I  lost  my  way  in  the  wood,  and 
went  astray:  and  finally,  growing  very  tired, 
I  lay  down  in  a  thicket.  And  as  I  rested, 
after  a  while,  I  heard  voices  coming  in  my 
direction.  And  lying  hidden,  I  looked  out, 
and  watched  the  speakers,  till  one  of  them,  as 
I  think,  caught  sight  of  my  face  among  the 
trees,  and  took  fright  at  its  ugliness,  and  went 
away  with  his  companion.  And  afterwards 
I  rose  myself  and  came  away;  and  now,  here 
I  am. 

And  Atirupa  looked  at  him,  with  dis- 
appointment: and  he  said:  O  Chamu,  is  this 
thy  story,  and  is  this  all? 

And  Chamu  laughed  softly,  and  he  said: 
Maharaj,  he  is  a  sage,  who  knows  where  to 
stop.  But  I  will  have  compassion  on  thy 
curiosity,  and  this  much  I  will  tell  thee  in 
addition,  that  one  of  the  speakers  was  a 
woman.  And  yet  I  am  not  sure  about  it, 
for  if  there  is  another  woman  like  her  in  the 
three  worlds,  I  will  cut  off  my  own  head,  and 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  29 

give  to  thee  as  a  footstool,  since  it  is  fit  for 
absolutely  nothing  else.  And  even  as  it  is, 
I  think,  after  all,  that  I  must  have  fallen 
asleep  in  the  clump  of  bushes,  and  seen  her  in 
a  dream :  compounding  for  myself  a  vision  out 
of  old  memories  of  Apsarases  and  Yakshinis, 
and  Nagas,  and  fragments  of  old  fairy  tales 
and  stories  that  my  mother  told  me  long  ago, 
when  I  was  a  child. 

And  Atirupa  looked  at  him  with  surprise; 
and  he  said:  Chamu,  this  is  very  strange, 
and  thou  art  not  like  thyself.  Hast  thou  been 
eating  poppy,'  or  art  thou  only  drunk  with 
wine?  For  it  is  no  ordinary  vision  that  could 
turn  thee  into  a  poet.  Come  now,  go  on. 
Describe  for  me  the  beauty  that  has  awoken 
such  emotion  in  a  soul  as  dull  and  muddy  as 
thy  own. 

And  Chamu  said:  O  Maharaj,  who  can  de- 
scribe the  indescribable?  There  are  things 
that  cannot  be  described,  but  only  seen:  hardly 

1  Ahiphena,  " snake -fo.un,"  said  by  Udoy  ('hand  Dtttt  in  his 
Matrrtu   M ■  : .    \    IndicC   I  i  bfl  derived   from   the   Arabic  afyoon, 
ippareDtly  unknown  in  India  before  the  Mussulman 
inva  ion. 


30  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

even  then  to  be  believed,  when  gazed  at  by 
the  eye.  Can  anything  imitate  and  reproduce 
the  beauty  of  the  blue  lotus,  but  the  pool  in 
which  it  is  reflected?  The  wandering  wind 
may  carry,  like  myself,  its  fragrance  to  a  dis- 
tance, but  cannot  perform  the  work  that  be- 
longs only  to  the  mirror  of  the  pool.  So  take 
counsel  of  the  wind,  and  go  thyself,  and  be- 
come the  pool. 

And  Atirupa  laughed  joyfully,  and  he  ex- 
claimed: O  Chamu,  thou  art  certainly  be- 
witched, and  this  wood-nymph  has  cast  over 
thee  a  spell :  turning  thee  into  a  very  breeze  of 
sandal-wood  from  Malaya. 

And  Chamu  said:  Laugh  Maharaj:  and  as 
I  told  thee  it  would  be,  so  it  is:  thou  dost 
not  believe.  But  when  thou  hast  seen  her 
eyes,  and  when  thou  hast  heard  her  voice, 
and  when  thou  hast  gazed  at  her,  as  I  did, 
coming  straight  towards  thee,  walking,  thou 
wilt  laugh  no  longer:  for  the  scorn  incarnate 
in  the  .pride  of  her  great  breast  will  make  thee 
giddy,  and  the  roundness  of  her  hips  will  steal 
thy  heart  and  burn  it  to  a  cinder,  and  the 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  31 

jingle  of  her  anklets  will  haunt  thy  ears,  as  it 
does  mine,  like  the  sound  of  a  stream,  keep- 
ing time  to  the  dance  of  her  two  little  feet  as 
they  come  towards  thee,  ti  1  thou  wilt  find 
thyself  wishing  that  some  strange  magic  might 
keep  on  drawing  thee  back  for  ever,  so  only 
that  thou  couldst  go  on  gazing,  as  she  kept 
on  coming,  like  an  everlasting  incarnation  of 
the  rapture  of  anticipation  of  touching  and 
caressing  what  it  maddens  thee  to  see.  Ma- 
haraj,  I  tell  thee,  that  were  the  three  great 
worlds  but  one  colossal  oyster  shell,  she  is  its 
very  pearl.  And  like  a  cunning  diver,  I  have 
been  down  into  the  sea,  and  seen  it,  and  now 
I  can  take  thee  where  it  is,  to  see  it  for  thyself. 
And  as  I  think,  thou  wilt  discover,  she  is  a 
quarry  to  thy  taste,  who  will  save  thee  from 
the  necessity  of  seeking  for  others  in  the  ashes 
of  thy  town. 


II 

THE  THIRST  OF  AN  ANTELOPE 


33 


Gazelle,  gazelle,  dost  understand 
Why  the  old  skulls  grin  in  this  silent  land  ? 
My  feet  are  fleet,  and  I  drink  at  will, 
There  is  something  blue  in  the  distance  still. 


II 


But  the  old  skulls  grin  in  the  silent  waste, 
Gazelle,  gazelle,  make  haste,  make  haste! 
I  travel  fast,  and  I  fear  no  ill, 
There  is  something  blue  in  the  distance  still. 

Ill 

The  old  skulls  grinned  in  the  silent  sand, 
They  beckoned  her  like  a  bony  hand : 
Gazelle,  gazelle,  hast  drunk  thy  fill  ? 
Is  there  something  blue  in  the  distance,  still  ? 

KurangI 


34 


A  DAPPLED  DAWN 


35 


A  DAPPLED  DAWN 


Now  in  the  meanwhile  Bimba,  when  his 
cousin  drove  him  off  his  throne,  had  fled 
away  to  the  eastern  quarter,  taking  his  daugh- 
ter with  him.  And  he  took  up  his  home  in  the 
forest,  and  there  he  lived,  in  a  little  hut  on  the 
side  of  a  hill,  just  where  the  desert  ended,  and 
the  trees  of  the  wood  began,  having  fallen  from 
the  state  of  a  King  to  that  of  a  fugitive  and 
a  hunter,  living  by  the  chase  and  the  fruits  of 
the  forest  trees,  and  drinking  streams  instead 
of  wine.  And  so  he  continued  to  live,  year 
by  year,  mourning  for  his  wife,  and  bitterly 
hating  his  cousin,  disgusted  with  the  world, 
with  no  companion  but  his  daughter.  And 
gradually,  as  time  went  on,  he  Utterly  forgot 
his  kingdom  and  all  his  former  life,  growing 

37 


38  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

ever  fonder  of  the  forest  that  he  lived  in,  and 
saying  to  himself:  Now  is  the  wood  become 
my  wife,  since  my  other  wife  is  gone.1  And 
the  only  thing  that  matters  now  is  the  daugh- 
ter that  she  left  behind,  as  if  to  keep  my  mem- 
ory green  of  what  she  was  herself.  So  now, 
then,  I  will  change  her  name,  lest  some  day  in 
the  future  it  should  betray  her  to  my  cousin : 
for  her  name  would  be  a  clue,  leading  to  her 
destruction.  And  as  a  rule,  to  lose  a  name 
is  the  same  thing  as  to  disappear,  and  die,  and 
be  forgotten.  So  she  shall  die,  as  Alipriya, 
to  be  reborn  as  Aranyani.  And  what  does  the 
title  matter?  For  the  bees  will  love  her  just 
as  well,  by  one  name  as  the  other.3 

So  then  Aranyani  grew  up  alone  with  her 
father  in  the  forest,  with  her  identity  disguised, 
turned  as  it  were  from  a  queen  into  a  wood- 
man's daughter,  and  lying  hidden  and  un- 
known, like  a  pearl  in  an  ocean  shell.     And  yet 

'An  untranslatable  play  on  dart,  wood,  and  sundari,  a  beauti- 
ful woman. 

2 Alipriya,  "  eloved  of  the  bees,"  a  name  of  the  trumpet 
flower,  Bignonia  suaveolens.  Aranydni,  a  forest  goddess,  nymph, 
or  dryad.     Pronounce  Urrun-nyani. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  39 

she  resembled  fire,  that  refuses  to  be  concealed, 
betraying  its  true  nature  through  no  matter 
what  envelops  it,  and  shining  through,  by 
chinks  and  holes,  the  wrapping  that  would 
hide  it,  even  when  it  does  not  burn.  For 
brought  up  in  the  forest  though  she  was,  and 
half  alone,  since  her  father  often  left  her  by 
herself,  all  day  long,  yet  strange  to  say!  the 
rudeness  of  her  wild  condition  ran  over  her, 
leaving  her  soul  untouched,  like  the  water 
running  in  crystal  drops  that  beautify  but  do 
not  wet  the  neck  of  a  royal  swan.  And  one 
day  she  was  discovered  like  a  treasure  in  the 
wood  by  a  band  of  hermits'  daughters,  that 
were  roaming  at  a  distance  from  the  hermit- 
age, away  in  the  forest's  heart.  And  those 
daughters  of  the  sages  all  fell  suddenly  in 
love  with  her  at  once,  not  only  for  her  eyes, 
that  reminded  them  of  the  deer  that  were 
their  playmates  in  their  home,  but  still  more 
for  the  strange  and  wild  sweetness  of  her  soul, 
that  resembled  absolutely  nothing  but  itself. 
And  every  now  and  then,  they  used  to  come 
and  play  with  her,  when  they  rambled  in  the 


40  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

wood,  telling  her  innumerable  stories  which 
they  heard  from  their  fathers,  those  mines  of 
sacred  wisdom.  And  then,  very  soon,  those 
daughters  of  the  hermits  found,  to  their  amaze- 
ment, that  they  resembled  fools,  pouring 
water  into  a  well.  For  she  remembered  every- 
thing when  she  had  only  heard  it  once,1  and 
meditating  over  it  alone,  not  only  squeezed 
out  of  its  mango  all  the  juice  which  it  con- 
tained, but  planted  its  kernel  like  a  seed  of 
heavenly  wisdom  in  her  heart,  and  watering 
it  with  her  own  imagination,  turned  it  pre- 
sently into  a  new  and  strange  tree,  loaded  with 
peculiar  flowers  and  fruits  of  its  own:  so  that 
as  she  grew  gradually  up,  she  resembled  a 
receptacle  of  the  essence  of  old  lore,  mixed 
with  a  native  and  original  savour  of  herself. 
Ha!  very  wonderful  indeed  are  the  influences 
that  rise  up  out  of  a  former  birth,  since  even  in 
this  lower  form  of  a  hunter's  daughter  the 


i 


Ekashrutadhard.  This  word  exhibits  the  opinion  entertained 
by  the  Hindus  as  to  the  close  connection  existing  between  a 
powerful  intellect  and  a  retentive  memory.  Such  a  quality  indi- 
cates the  highest  kind  of  pundit:  and  it  should  be  recollected  that 
Saraswati  is  the  divinity  of  wisdom,  the  pundit  parexcellence. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  41 

nature  of  that  incomparable  goddess  over- 
flowed, like  a  holy  sap  in  the  dark  heart  of  a 
forest  tree,  and  welled  out  abundantly,  till 
it  covered  the  coarse  bark  with  fragrant  buds 
and  shoots,  and  flowers  of  immortal  scent  and 
hue.  For  her  body  kept  pace  with  the  progress 
of  her  soul,  as  if  out  of  rivalry  and  jealousy 
unwilling  to  lag  behind  it  in  the  acquisition 
of  ornaments  and  graces.  And  having  no 
other  models,  it  found  itself  obliged  to  imi- 
tate the  objects  that  made  up  the  atmos- 
phere and  soil  in  which  it  grew ;  till  at  last  the 
deer  and  the  blue  lotuses  gazed  upon  her 
eyes,  and  the  red  fruits  and  gunjd  berries  at  her 
lips,  and  the  creepers  at  her  arms,  with  envy 
and  amazement:  and  the  tatndla  shadows 
turned  pale  when  they  looked  at  her  hair,  and 
the  trunks  of  the  nyagrodha  trees  despaired, 
gazing  at  the  curve  of  her  waist  as  it  sank  into 
the  outline  of  her  heavy  hips,  and  the  swans 
and  the  elephants  blushed  with  shame  to  see 
her   walk,    and    the   gourds   swelled    till    they 

burst  with  jealousy,  unable  to  rival  the  pro- 
tuberance of  those  two  disdainful  sisters,  her 


42  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

inimitable  breasts,  and  the  bees  grew  mad, 
as  if  intoxicated  with  honey  sweeter  than  their 
own,  at  the  fragrance  that  floated  from  the 
flower  of  her  mouth. 

And  then  strange !  just  at  the  very  moment 
when  she  turned  from  a  child  into  a  woman, 
there  came  over  her  a  change  that  resembled 
the  presence  of  a  single  overhanging  cloud  in 
the  ruby  crystal  of  a  clear  pale  dawn.  For 
though  her  father  told  her  something  of  her 
story  and  his  own,  yet  he  never  told  her  all, 
whetting  all  the  more  her  curiosity  by  what 
he  did  not  tell,  which  like  a  hidden  secret  she 
strove  to  discover  for  herself  by  means  of  the 
careless  hints  that  fell  every  now  and  then 
from  his  mouth  unawares,  like  clues.  And 
the  thought  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  a 
King  flitted  in  her  mind,  and  appeared  to 
disappear  continually,  coming  and  going,  as 
often  as  she  sat  musing  in  the  twilight,  like 
the  bats  in  the  shadows  of  the  surrounding 
dusk.  And  she  mixed  this  conviction  with 
the  rosy  hope  of  the  dawn  of  her  own  maiden- 
hood, and  with  visions  which  she  would  blush 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  43 

like  that  dawn  to  avow  even  to  herself,  and 
with  fictions  of  her  own  imagination  that  was 
filled  with  old  legends  and  stories,  and  she 
brooded  over  a  future  that  was  suggested  by 
the  past  till  it  turned  into  a  dream,  half 
pleasant  and  half  melancholy  for  want  of  its 
unlikelihood,  that  haunted  her,  and  never 
left  her,  resembling  the  colour  of  the  blue 
shadow  that  hovers  on  the  pure  snow  of  thy 
father's1  western  slopes,  just  before  the  coming 
of  the  early  sun.  For  though  she  was  unaware 
of  it  herself,  she  was  plunged  in  the  loneli- 
ness of  sex,  arising  from  the  dim  yearning  of 
her  as  yet  untouched  affection,  and  longing 
for  the  thing  that  every  maiden  waits  for, 
like  the  night,  in  the  form  of  a  lover,  to  burst 
out  suddenly  into  red  emotion  and  an  ecstasy 
of  joy.  And  sometimes,  as  she  sat  alone 
dreaming,  and  gazing  as  she  loved  to  do  out 
into  the  desert,  that  stretched  away  below 
the  hill  she  lived  on  towards  the  setting  sun, 
visions  of  the  kings  and  princes  and  lovers  of 
her  Stories  assembling  in  crowds  at  her  own 
1  Be  the-  Efimtfli 


44  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

Swayamwara  l  floated  with  indistinct  and 
unimaginable  beauty  in  the  blue  haze  of  the 
sand,  with  an  intoxicating  fascination  that 
almost  took  away  her  breath,  till  she  was 
amazed  and  even  frightened  to  find  her  own 
heart  furiously  beating,  and  shaking  into  agi- 
tation the  wave  of  that  bosom  which  there 
was  nobody  to  see,  as  if  it  was  ashamed  of 
her  and  angry  with  itself. 

And  yet,  with  the  exception  of  her  father,  she 
had  never  seen  any  man  but  one,  who  entered 
into  her  forest  life  merely  like  one  of  its  trees, 
for  she  had  been  accustomed  to  see  him,  every 
now  and  then,  ever  since  she  was  a  child.  And 
this  was  a  young  woodman,  who  lived  a  long 
way  off  in  the  wood.  And  he  used  to  go 
hunting  with  her  father,  who  had  found  him 
in  the  forest:  and  he  came  every  now  and 
then  to  see  them,  since  her  father  was  pleased 
with  him  for  his  good  nature  and  simplicity, 
resembling  as  it  did  the  clearness  of  a  stream. 

1  The  old  epics  are  full  of  stories  of  these  gatherings,  held  to 
enable  the  daughters  of  Kings  to  choose  their  own  husbands. 
The  story  of  the  marriage  in  Herodotus,  about  which  Hippocleides 
did  not  care,  is  one  of  the  few  parallels  in  the  west. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  45 

And  he  was  as  tall  as  a  shala  tree,  and  very 
strong,  and  very  brown  and  hairy,  and  though 
his  name  was  Babhru,  ■  yet  her  father  always 
called  him  Bruin,2  and  Aranyani  knew  him 
first  only  by  the  nickname:  for  when  she  was 
a  child,  he  used  to  play  with  her,  as  often  as  he 
came.  And  so  as  she  grew  up,  she  looked 
upon  him  always  with  the  eyes  of  a  child, 
never  even  dreaming  that  her  own  alteration 
might  produce  any  alteration  in  himself,  as 
it  did.  For  little  by  little,  as  her  beauty  grew, 
so  did  his  affection;  till  at  last  it  turned  into 
a  passionate  devotion,  that  remained  not- 
withstanding absolutely  pure,  and  free  from 
any  taint  of  evil,  like  the  soil  in  which  it  grew. 
And  finally,  he  could  not  keep  away  from  her. 
And  he  came  oftener  and  oftener  to  see 
them,  till  her  father  was  on  the  very  point 
of  forbidding  him  to  come.  And  then,  sud- 
denly, Babhru  asked  him  to  give  Aranyani 
to  him  as  a  wife. 

And  Bimba  looked  at  him,  as  if  struck  by 

•Tawny:  reddish  brown.     Pronounce  Bub-bhi 

rruptton  of  Sikska,  just  ay  "Bruin"  in- 

stead of  "Hear." 


46  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

the  very  thunderbolt  of  astonishment,  for 
though  he  was  fond  of  Babhru,  yet  the  idea  of 
such  a  son-in-law  was  so  outrageous  that  it 
had  never  even  occurred  to  him  at  all.  And 
like  a  flash  of  lightning,  he  suddenly  became 
aware  of  his  daughter's  own  attraction,  and 
the  danger  of  the  proximity  of  butter  to  the 
fire.  And  though  utterly  despising  Babhru 
for  a  son-in-law,  he  could  not  tell  him  why. 
Therefore  he  banished  him  altogether,  and 
not  only  would  not  give  him  Aranyani,  but 
actually  forbade  him  to  see  her  any  more :  as  it 
were,  returning  upon  Babhru  the  thunderbolt 
that  had  fallen  on  himself:  so  that  that  un- 
happy son-in-law  came  within  a  little  of  aban- 
doning the  body,  for  grief  and  amazement, 
and  remorse,  at  ever  having  asked  a  question 
that  had  produced  so  terrible  a  consequence, 
the  very  opposite  of  that  at  which  it  aimed. 
For  even  to  forsake  the  society  of  Bimba  was 
a  grief  to  him,  since  he  loved  him  and  looked 
up  to  him  as  a  dog  does  to  his  master.  But 
the  thought  of  losing  that  of  Aranyani  was 
exactly  like  a  sword  driven  through  the  very 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  47 

middle  of  his  heart.  And  leaving  it  behind 
him,  as  it  were,  together  with  his  reason  that 
abondoned  him,  he  went  away  hanging  down 
his  head,  alone. 

But  unable  to  endure  separation,  yet  un- 
willing to  disobey  Bimba,  he  used  to  come 
stealthily  and  lie  lurking  in  the  bushes,  watch- 
ing, to  catch  sight  of  Aranyani.  And  some- 
times, seizing  his  opportunity,  when  he  knew 
that  her  father  was  away,  he  would  creep  out, 
trembling  like  a  coward,  and  speak  to  her. 
And  Aranyani,  displeased  at  him  for  coming 
to  see  her  without  her  father's  knowledge  or 
permission,  and  not  reciprocating  his  passion 
in  the  least,  yet  partly  out  of  pity,  and  partly 
out  of  kindness  arising  from  recollection  of  his 
playing  with  her  in  the  past,  and  it  may  be, 
partly  just  a  very  little  pleased  with  his 
honest  admiration,  and  willing  to  waste  a 
little  of  her  time  in  teasing  him,  for  want  of 
a  better  lover,  would  sometimes  talk  to  him 
a  little,  and  laugh  at  him  and  tell  him  stories, 
and  send  him  away  more  utterly  infatuated, 
and  more  happy,  and  more  miserable  than 


48  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

ever,  after  making  him  promise  never  to  come 
again.  And  every  time  he  promised,  and 
went  away  only  to  return  again  immediately, 
simply  because  he  could  not  help  it:  dreading 
her  reproof  every  time  he  dared  to  come,  yet 
ready  for  all  that  to  risk  his  life  a  hundred  times 
over,  only  to  bask  once  more  in  the  nectar  of 
the  sunshine  of  that  reproof.  For  the  words 
of  the  straw,  promising  not  to  answer  to  the 
call  of  the  amber  that  attracts  it,  are  void  of 
meaning,  and  perish  in  the  very  moment  of 
their  utterance,  like  pictures  drawn  on  the 
surface  of  a  running  stream. 


II 


So,  then,  there  came  a  day,  when  Bimba 
went  away  to  hunt  in  the  forest,  leaving  Aran- 
yani  alone  at  home.  And  on  that  morning, 
she  was  sitting  by  herself  in  her  customary 
seat,  on  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree,  gazing,  with 
her  chin  resting  on  her  hand,  away  over  the 
desert,  that  lay  before  her  like  an  incar- 
nation of  the  colour  of  vague  youth-longing, 
ending  in  a  blue  dream.  And  wholly  intent 
on  her  own  thoughts,  she  remained  sitting  ab- 
solutely still,  totally  unconscious  of  all  around 
her,  as  if  her  soul,  in  imitation  of  what  it  gazed 
at,  had  become  the  exact  mirror  of  the  silent 
desert's  inarticulate  and  incommunicable 
dream.  And  yet,  from  time  to  time,  a  smile 
stole  into  her  lips  of  its  own  accord,  as  if  be- 
traying against  her  will  some  sweet  and  seeret 
hoard  of  delicious  joy  within,  that  she  strove 

4  V) 


50  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

in  vain  to  hide.  And  every  now  and  then 
her  eyes  grew  a  little  brighter,  and  there  came 
a  flush  over  her  face,  and  a  little  tremor  ran  as 
it  were  all  over  her,  like  the  ripple  that  comes 
and  goes  upon  the  bosom  of  a  lake,  stirred  by 
a  play  of  wind. 

So  as  she  sat,  it  happened  that  Babhru 
came  slowly  through  the  wood,  looking  for  her, 
and  knowing  her  customary  haunts.  And  sud- 
denly catching  sight  of  her  sitting,  he  hesi- 
tated for  a  moment,  and  then  came  quietly 
and  stood  behind  her,  a  little  way  off,  half- 
pleased  that  she  did  not  see  him,  and  a  little 
bit  afraid  of  the  moment  when  she  should. 
And  there  he  remained  silent,  yet  with  a  heart 
beating  so  violently  that  it  shook  him  till  he 
trembled,  gazing  with  ecstasy  and  adoration 
at  the  outline  of  her  throat  and  her  chin,  and 
the  corner  of  her  lips,  which  he  could  only 
just  see,  round  the  curve  of  her  cheek.  And 
after  a  little  while,  longing  to  see  more  of 
those  lips,  he  leaned  eagerly  forward,  and  put 
out  one  foot  without  looking  where  it  fell ;  and 
stepping  on  a  dry  twig,  it  broke  with  a  snap. 


Hubbies  of  the  Foam  51 

And  at  the  sound,  instantly  she  started  up, 
and  looked  round,  as  if  in  terror.  And  strange ! 
when  she  saw  him,  there  came  into  her  face 
surprise  and  displeasure,  that  were  mingled 
with  relief,  and  even  disappointment,  as  if  she 
had  expected,  and  hoped,  and  yet  even  feared, 
to  see  someone  else.  And  while  she  gazed 
silently  at  him  in  confusion,  Babhru  said 
sadly:  Aranyani,  of  what  or  of  whom  didst 
thou  think  so  intently  as  to  be  unaware  of 
my  approach?  For  thy  lips  seemed  to  me  to 
be  smiling,  as  if  with  anticipation,  and  very 
sure  I  am  that  it  was  not  at  the  thought  of 
me  or  my  coming  that  they  smiled. 

And  Aranyani  blushed,  and  instantly 
frowned,  at  her  own  involuntary  blush. 
And  she  said,  as  if  haughtily:  O  Babhru,  what 
are  my  thoughts  to  thee?  And  are  they  thy 
servants?  And  what  right  hast  thou  to  be 
jealous  of  my  thoughts,  who  hast  not  even 
the  title  or  permission  to  be  here  at  all? 
Didst  thou  not  promise  not  to  come  again? 
and  yet  here  thou  art  for  all  that,  watching 
to  surprise  my  very  thoughts,  while  all  the 


52  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

while  I  do  not  think  of  thee  at  all.  Yet 
even  so,  here  there  is  certainly  no  rival  to 
thyself.  And  Babhru  said  bitterly:  Rivals 
could  not  make  the  matter  worse,  since  by  thy 
own  confession  thou  dost  not  think  of  me  at  all. 
Even  without  rivals,  I  am  utterly  rejected  and 
despised,  by  thee  and  by  thy  father.  Then  she 
said  kindly:  Nay,  Babhru,  not  by  me.  Thou 
art  for  me,  just  what  thou  always  wert  before. 
And  Babhru  said :  Alas !  that  is  my  very  grief. 
For  I  would  have  thee  not  the  same,  but  some- 
thing more.  Then  said  Aranyani :  What  more, 
O  Babhru?  And  he  looked  at  her  sadly,  and 
said:  Dear  Aranyani,  couldst  thou  not  love  me 
just  a  very  little?  And  she  laughed,  and  said : 
Poor  Bruin,  do  I  then  not  love  thee  very  well? 
And  Babhru  said  with  emphasis:  Love!  Thou 
dost  not  so  much  as  understand  the  meaning 
of  the  word. 

And  she  looked  at  him  for  a  moment, 
with  eyes  whose  expression  he  could  not 
comprehend,  and  she  drew  a  deep  breath, 
and  turned  away.  And  she  said  lightly:  Do  I 
not?  then  thou  shalt  tell  me  all  about  it:  for  I 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  53 

will  allow  thee  to  stay  with  me,  for  a  very  little 
while,  just  to  show  thee  that  I  love  thee  a 
very  little.  Sit  down,  then,  beside  me,  and 
look  not  so  melancholy,  or  I  shall  begin  to  think 
to  love  is  to  be  wretched ;  whereas  I  had  imag- 
ined, in  my  innocence,  the  very  contrary.  And 
Babhru  said:  Thou  art  utterly  deceived:  for 
love  is  misery.  And  she  laughed,  and  ex- 
claimed: Why,  then,  I  am  better  as  I  am 
without  it.  What!  wouldst  thou  have  me 
miserable?  And  he  said:  Well  can  I  tell  thee 
from  experience,  that  every  lover  must  be 
miserable,  when,  like  myself,  he  cannot  gain 
his  object.  And  now  I  could  almost  wish  evil 
to  thy  father,  since  he  it  is  who  stands,  like  a 
cloud,  between  me  and  the  moon  of  my  desire. 
And  she  said:  What  is  this  much  desired 
moon?  And  he  said :  Thou  knowest  very  well, 
it  is  thyself:  and  I  long  to  have  thee  for  my 
wife,  and  live  with  thee  alone,  for  ever  and 
ever,  in  the  wood. 

Then  said  Aranyani:  0  Bruin,  it  may  be, 
the  attainment  of  thy  desire  might  sorely 
disappoint    thy   expectation,    after  all;    since 


54  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

many  times,  those  who  have  risen  to  the 
very  summit  of  the  mountain  of  their  hopes 
have  found  themselves  miserably  deceived, 
and  fallen  suddenly  to  the  very  bottom  of  de- 
spair with  a  crash,  like  Chandana.  And 
Babhru  said:  Who  was  Chandana?  And  he 
said  within  himself:  Let  her  tell  me  about 
Chandana  or  anybody  else,  so  only  that  I  can 
cheat  her  into  allowing  me  to  sit  here,  and 
watch  her  lips  moving,  and  look  into  her  eyes. 
And  Aranyani  said:  Babhru,  thou  art  so 
simple,  and  thy  soul  is  like  crystal,  so  that  I 
can  see  into  thy  secret  thoughts  without 
needing  to  be  enlightened  by  thy  voice.  Didst 
thou  not  say  to  thyself:  I  care  absolutely 
nothing  for  Chandana,  so  only  that  I  may 
listen  while  she  talks?  And  Babhru  hung  his 
head  with  a  blush.  And  Aranyani  clapped 
her  hands  in  triumph,  and  exclaimed:  See! 
O  Bruin,  thou  art  guilty.  Yet  despair  not, 
for  thou  shalt  hear  all  about  Chandana,  just 
the  same.  Know,  that  long  ago,  there  was 
a  King  who  had  innumerable  wives,  and  fifty 
sons,  of  whom  this  very  Chandana  was  one. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  55 

Now  all  these  sons  lived  in  anxiety,  saying  to 
themselves :  Which  of  us  all  will  be  the  heir  to 
the  throne,  and  succeed  our  father  when  he 
dies?  So  they  remained  rivals,  and  each  had 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  others,  fearing  to  be 
supplanted.  So  Chandana's  case  was  worse 
than  thine,  O  Bruin,  since  thou  art  without  a 
rival.  And  then,  after  a  while,  that  old 
King,  out  of  all  his  fifty  sons,  chose  this 
very  Chandana  for  his  heir;  and  appointed 
him  ytiwardjd1  with  all  the  proper  ceremonies. 
So  when  they  were  completed,  that  overjoyed 
yuwardjd  ran,  fresh  from  the  installation,  to  the 
awarodha,2  to  tell  his  mother  of  his  triumph, 
and  increase  it  by  her  praises.  But  he  found 
her,  to  his  amazement,  all  in  tears,  and  as 
dismal  as  if  he  had  come  only  to  tell  her  of  his 
death.  So  he  said :  Mother,  what  is  the  reason 
of  such  misery,  on  such  a  day  of  exultation? 
Should  the  gloom  continue,  while  the  sun  is 
rising?     But  his  mother  looked  sourly  at  him, 

1  I.e.,  "little  king,"  Prince  of  Wales  or  Dauphin.  The  story 
is  a  piece  of  old  folklore,  and  one  version  may  be  found  in 
Somadewa. 

1  The  women's  apartments,  or  gynaceum. 


56  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

and  she  said:  Fool!  thy  rising  sun  is  setting: 
thou  art  out,  in  thy  quarters,  and  mistakest 
west  for  east,  and  soon  enough,  it  will  be  night 
for  thee.  And  Chandana  said :  I  do  not  under- 
stand thee.  Then  said  his  mother:  The  King 
thy  father  discovered,  long  ago,  the  elixir  of 
life,  and  even  now  he  has  been  living  for  fifteen 
hundred  years.  And  this  is  a  jest  that  he 
plays,  now  and  then,  for  his  own  amusement, 
making  one  of  his  innumerable  sons  his  heir. 
For  all  his  heirs  die  before  him,  as  thou  wilt 
also,  never  even  reaching  so  much  as  the  very 
first  step  of  that  throne  that  lures  them  on 
and  hangs  always  just  before  them,  like  a 
bundle  of  hariali  grass  held  by  a  crafty  rider  on 
a  stick  before  the  nose  of  the  deluded  beast  of 
burden  that  carries  him  along.  Thine  is  only 
the  phantom  of  a  sun  that  will  presently  go 
down  and  disappear,  leaving  the  true  sun,  thy 
father,  still  in  the  very  blaze  of  noon. 

So  as  he  listened,  the  face  of  that  unhappy 
Chandana  fell.  And  he  went  away,  and  sank, 
just  as  his  mother  told  him,  into  the  night  of 
melancholy;  and  abandoning  his  royal  con- 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  57 

dition,  he  became  a  pilgrim,  and  died  after 
many  years  at  a  very  holy  bathing-place,  at 
last.  But  his  father  went  on  reigning,  making 
his  sons,  one  after  another,  yuwardjd,  exactly 
as  before. 


Ill 


So,  then,  when  Aranyani  ended,  Babhru  said 
with  a  smile:  Aranyani,  thy  story  is  foolish, 
and  altogether  wide  of  the  mark,  and  it  brings 
me  consolation  rather  than  reproof.  For  very 
certainly  thy  father  is  not  a  King,  and  has  not 
an  elixir,  and  will  not  live  for  ever.  And  when 
he  dies,  thou  wilt  no  longer  be  able  to  escape 
me,  for  we  shall  be  alone  together  in  the  wood. 

Then  said  Aranyani:  Babhru,  thy  confi- 
dence is  very  positive;  and  yet,  who  knows? 
Who  knows  what  may  happen  in  the  future? 
Count  not,  O  Bruin,  with  such  ignorant 
presumption  on  finding  me  for  ever  at  thy 
mercy  in  the  wood:  even  after  the  disaster, 
which  ought  not  to  have  occurred  to  thee,  even 
in  a  dream.  And  even  if  my  father  be,  as  thou 
sayest,  not  a  King,  I  say,  who  knows?     And 

all  at  once,  she  turned  half  round,  facing  him 

58 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  59 

directly  as  he  sat  beside  her,  with  malice  and 
provocation  in  her  eyes.  And  she  said: 
Babhru,  how  if  a  King's  son  were  sud- 
denly to  come  into  the  wood,  and  carry  me 
away,  as  many  stories  tell  of  others?  Did  not 
Dushmanta  discover  Shakuntala,  in  exactly 
such  a  wood?  But  thou  wilt  say,  she  was  more 
beautiful  than  I.  And  Babhru  said  gloomily: 
I  will  say  nothing  of  the  kind :  for  thou  art  far 
more  beautiful  than  Shakuntala  or  anybody 
else.  Then  said  Aranyani:  Thou  seest.  So 
nothing  is  wanted  to  make  my  case  tally  with 
her  own,  save  only  the  King's  son.  And  is  not 
the  world  full  to  the  very  brim  of  Kings  and 
their  sons?  And  Babhru  exclaimed  with  a 
groan:  Alas!  Aranyani,  thou  art  wounding 
my  very  heart,  and  this  is  the  very  thing  of 
which  I  am  afraid.  For  thy  only  preservation 
is,  that  this  is  a  wood,  into  which  nobody  ever 
comes.  And  all  day  long  I  tremble,  lest  in  very 
truth  some  stranger  should  come  into  the  wood 
and  see  thee,  and  spread  abroad  the  news  of 
thy  existence,  like  the  wind  which  carries 
everywhere  the  scent  of  a  lotus,  till  at  length 


60  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

the  bees  come  to  plunder  it  of  the  honey  it 
contains.  Then,  indeed,  all  would  be  over,  for 
thee  as  for  me. 

And  Aranyani  said,  with  mischief:  O  Bruin, 
what  then?  Wilt  thou  deny  his  flower  to  the 
bee,  and  is  not  the  true  and  proper  place  of 
every  flower  either  the  wilderness,  its  origin, 
or  the  head  of  a  King,  its  destiny  and  end? 

And  once  again,  Babhru  uttered  a  groan, 
and  he  exclaimed:  Aranyani,  thy  words  are 
torture,  and  nothing  whatever  but  the  echo  of 
my  own  fears.  But  this  much  I  will  tell  thee, 
on  my  own  part :  that  the  King  who  shall  come 
to  carry  thee  away  will  do  well  to  beware.  For 
if  I  know  it,  and  find  him  in  the  wood,  he 
will  never  leave  it,  either  with  thee  or  without. 
And  he  looked  away,  with  ferocity  in  his 
eyes  and  in  his  teeth,  not  perceiving  that 
Aranyani  turned  paler  as  he  spoke.  And 
presently  she  said,  in  a  low  voice:  Surely  this 
love  must  be  an  evil  thing,  if  these  are  its 
results.  And  now  for  the  very  first  time,  I  see 
that  thou  art  well  named,  O  Bruin,  and  in 
very  truth  a  bear.     What !  wouldsfr  thou  actu- 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  61 

ally  slay  the  poor  King's  son  who  had  never 
done  thee  any  harm,  simply  for  seeking  me? 
And  Babhru  said  sternly :  What  harm  could 
he  do  me  greater  than  robbing  me  of  thee? 
But  let  him  only  come,  and  see! 

And  Aranyani  said  slowly:  O  thou  rude,  and 
fierce,  and  love-bewildered  Babhru,  dost  thou 
not  know,  that  only  he  is  virtuous  who  is  so 
far  from  revenging  an  injury  that  he  returns 
it,  on  the  contrary,  by  a  benefit,  as  Bhrigu  did; 
whose  story  would  be  a  lesson  to  thee,  of  which 
thou  standest  in  sore  need.  And  Babhru  said : 
I  care  not  a  straw,  either  for  Bhrigu  or  any- 
body else,  and  if,  in  this  matter,  he  could 
be  of  any  other  opinion  than  my  own,  I 
tell  thee  beforehand,  that  thy  Bhrigu  is  a 
fool. 

And  Aranyani  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm, 
and  said  very  gently:  On  the  contrary,  he 
was  a  sage:  sit  still,  and  listen,  while  I  tell 
thee  all  about  him.  Long  ago  there  arose 
along  the  sages  a  dispute  as  to  which  was 
the  greatest  of  the  gods.  And  some  said  the 
Grandfather;  and  others,  the  Moony-crested; 


62  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

and  others,  the  husband  of  Shri.1  And  find- 
ing that  they  could  not  agree,  for  all  their 
disputing,  they  came  to  the  conclusion,  to 
settle  the  matter  by  experiment.  And  they 
chose  from  among  them  Bhrigu,  and  sent  him 
away,  to  put  the  gods  to  the  test.  So  Bhrigu 
went  accordingly,  and  after  a  while,  he  fell 
in  with  Brahma.  And  drawing  near  that  four- 
faced  god,  he  neither  saluted  him,  nor  per- 
formed a  pradakshina,2  but  went  up  without 
ceremony  and  accosted  him  with  rude  famili- 
arity. Thereupon  Brahma,  in  great  wrath  at 
his  insolence,  and  on  the  very  point  of  curs- 
ing that  deliberately  ill-mannered  sage,  was 
nevertheless  appeased  by  him,  by  means  of 
excuses  and  apologies.  And  so,  leaving  him 
appeased,  Bhrigu  proceeded  further  on,  and 
coming  to  Kailas,  enquired  for  Maheshwara. 
But  the  Moony-crested  god,  informed  of  his 
arrival,  sent  him  out  a  message  bidding  him 
go  away  again,  and  saying:   I  have  no  leisure, 


1  I.e.,  Brahma,  Shiwa,  and  Wishnu  respectively. 

2  By    moving    round    him,    keeping    him    on    the    right:    an 
established  form  of  adoration. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  63 

since  I  am  at  this  very  moment  busy  playing 
with  my  other  half,  the  Daughter  of  the  Snow. 
And  going  away  accordingly,  Bhrigu  came 
upon  the  Lord  Wishnu,  lying  fast  asleep. 
And  instantly  he  awoke  him,  by  giving  him  a 
kick  upon  the  breast,  so  hard  that  he  injured 
his  own  foot.  Then  that  husband  of  Shri,  rising 
up  politely,  said  to  him  with  concern  and  com- 
passion in  his  voice:  O  Bhrigu,  surely  thou  hast 
hurt  thy  own  foot :  for  the  kick  was  very  severe. 
And  as  a  rule,  a  blow  hurts  the  giver  more  than 
the  receiver.  And  sitting  down  beside  him, 
that  compassionate  diety  took  the  foot  upon  his 
lap,  and  began  very  gently  to  shampoo  it,  con- 
tinuing till  all  the  pain  was  gone.  Then  said 
Bhrigu:  What  god  is  greater  than  this  god? 
For  who  but  a  god,  and  the  very  highest,  would 
requite  an  unprovoked  assault  by  tenderness, 
and  pity,  and  oblivion  of  his  own  wrong? 
Surely  this  is  the  badge  of  Deity  in  its  very  es- 
sence, that,  like  sky-crystal,  is  pure,  and  abso- 
lutely transparent,  and  utterly  without  a  flaw?1 

1  This  curious  and  very  beautiful  legend  may  be  found  in  the 
Puranas. 


IV 


And  Babhru  listened  in  silence,  and  when 
she  ended,  he  said  slowly:  Aranyani,  dost 
thou  then  imagine,  that  the  deity,  so  tol- 
erant of  injury  to  himself,  would  have  been 
equally  long-suffering  and  indifferent  had 
Bhrigu  or  any  other,  fool  or  sage,  attempted 
to  rob  him  of  Shri,  and  deprive  him  of  his 
wife? 

And  Aranyani  laughed  and  said :  But  I  am 
not  thy  wife,  0  Babhru,  yet.  Thou  art  antici- 
pating. And  Babhru  said:  Alas!  no.  But  at 
least,  if  thou  art  not  yet  my  wife,  thou  art 
not  any  other  man's:  nor,  if  I  can  prevent  it, 
shalt  ever  be.  And  she  said:  Babhru,  thou 
art  utterly  intolerable,  and  a  tyrant:  and 
at  this  rate,  I  shall  without  a  doubt  die  un- 
married, if  all  the  sons  of  Kings  who  may  come 

to  seek  me  in  the  wood  are  to  be  slain  by  thee. 

64 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  65 

And  much  I  fear,  that  the  wood  will  come  to 
rival  even  Kurukshetra, '  with  all  its  heroes  ly- 
ing dead  in  heaps  except  thyself. 

And  Babhru  said  without  a  smile:  Aran- 
yani,  thou  art  laughing  at  a  thing  which, 
for  all  that,  is  very  solemn,  and  very  simple: 
for  very  sure  it  is,  that  whoever  would  de- 
prive me  of  thyself  must  either  slay  me  first, 
or  die  himself.  And  she  said:  Poor  Bruin, 
this  alone  is  very  sure,  that  love  must  be 
a  very  demon,  since  he  has  filled  thee  with 
such  a  raging  thirst  for  the  slaughter  of 
the  sons  of  Kings.  But  come  now,  I  will  tell 
thee  a  better  way:  and  that  is,  to  kill  me: 
for  so  wilt  thou  effectually  circumvent  and 
cheat  all  these  lovesick  and  imaginary  Kings, 
at  a  single  blow,  if,  as  it  seems,  I  am  to  be  a 
cause  of  strife  and  bloodshed  as  long  as  I  am 
alive. 

And  he  looked  at  her  fixedly,  and  said: 
Jest  not  with  my  devotion,  for  it  may  be,  thou 
art   nearer   the    truth    than    thou   imaginest. 

■  The  scene  of  the  great  buttle  in  the  Mahabharata,  where  all 
the  beroei  Idlled  each  other. 

5 


66  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

Will  any  King  whatever  love  thee  half  as  well 
as  I  do?  Yet  thou  wilt  not  love  me,  and  as  I 
think,  it  is  because  I  am  not  on  the  level  of  thy 
thoughts,  and  not  a  King.  *  Then  she  laughed, 
and  exclaimed:  Alas!  poor  Bruin,  thou  art 
mad:  for  all  these  Kings  are  only  dreams,  yet 
art  thou  as  savage  as  if  they  were  actually  be- 
fore thee  in  a  row.  And  he  said:  Aye!  only 
dreams:  and  yet  the  dreams  are  earnest,  and 
are  thine.  Kings  are  the  very  matter  of  thy 
dreams.  Is  not  this  the  subject  of  thy  rever- 
ies as  thou  gazest  at  the  sand?  Ha!  am  I 
right?  Dost  thou  never  long  for  some  King's 
son  to  come  and  fill  thy  life  with  joy,  and 
deliver  thee  from  the  monotony  of  this  wood, 
and  thy  father,  and  myself?  Am  I  not  below 
thee,  in  thy  estimation?  Then  for  what  canst 
thou  long,  but  for  thy  peer? 

And  he  looked  keenly  at  Aranyani,  and  as 
her  eyes  met  his,  she  wavered,  a  very  little,  and 

1  It  should  be  remembered  by  the  English  reader  that  "sons 
of  Kings"  are  more  numerous  in  India  than  in  the  West.  All 
Rajpoots  are  sons  of  Kings:  and  Aranyani  herself  a  Rajpootni. 
To  marry  a  King's  son  would  be  for  her,  not  merely  a  desire, 
but  a  duty:  an  affair  of  caste.  All  this  flavour  evaporates  in  a 
translation. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  67 

looked  away,  and  said:  Alas!  poor  Babhru,  thy 
love  is  jealousy,  which  makes  thee  so  sharp- 
sighted  that  thou  seest  things  that  are  not 
there.  So  trouble  not  thy  foolish  head  about 
anything  so  slight  and  insignificant  as  the 
subject  of  my  dreams,  otherwise  thou  wilt  place 
thyself  on  the  level  of  the  zanies  of  Chincholi. 
And  he  said:  Thou  speakest  the  very  truth: 
I  am  the  very  type  of  a  fool,  striving  to  reach 
what  is  above  him  and  beyond  his  reach, 
even  when  he  stands  on  tiptoe:  and  that  is, 
the  level  of  thy  thoughts.  And  Aranyani 
said:  See  now,  I  said  well,  thou  art  the  very 
fellow  of  the  sages  of  Chincholi:  a  city,  into 
which  on  a  day  there  came  a  certain  sanc- 
timonious ascetic,  called  Pinga,  from  the  colour 
of  his  hair.  And  arriving  at  the  square  before 
the  palace  of  the  King,  he  sat  down  in  its 
middle,  and  spreading  out  his  left  hand  open 
before  him,  he  looked  intently  at  its  palm. 
And  so  he  continued,  wrapt  in  the  contempla- 
tion of  his  hand,  paying  absolutely  no  regard 
to  anything  around  him,  till  night.  And  this 
he  did  every  day,  all  day  long,  till  at  length  he 


68  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

became  the  very  target  of  the  curiosity  of 
the  people  of  the  town,  who  crowded  round 
him  in  a  throng,  disputing  as  to  the  mean- 
ing of  his  singular  behaviour,  and  all  main- 
taining opposite  opinions.  And  one  said: 
This  ascetic  is  undoubtedly  pondering  on 
the  Panchatantra.  *  And  another:  Beyond 
a  doubt,  the  holy  man  is  meditating  on 
Death.  And  yet  another:  Is  not  this  an 
ascetic?  And  of  what  should  he  meditate 
but  the  five  fires?  But  a  pundit  passing 
by,  said:  His  meditation  can  be  of  nothing 
but  the  syllogism  and  its  members.  There- 
upon another  said:  Is  it  not  the  left  hand?3 
Then  his  thoughts  are  of  the  Shakti.  And  a 
wag  among  them  said :  Aye !  For  of  what  do 
all  these  holy  men  perpetually  think,  but  of 
the  five  arrows  of  the  God  of  Love?  And  a 
Brahman  said :  Thou  art  altogether  out  in  thy 
conjecture,  for  he  meditates  on  nothing  but  the 
sheaths  of  the  soul.     And  a  Gawali  shouted: 

1  The  point  of  these  interpretations  depends  on  the  number 
five,  which  enters  into  all  of  them. 

2  There  is  a  play  here  on  wdmd,  which  means  the  left  hand  and 
a  beautiful  woman. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  69 

The  sage  is  considering  devoutly  the  parts  of 
the  cow.  For  what  is  holier  than  a  cow? 
And  there  arose  such  an  uproar  in  the  city  that 
the  citizens  all  came  to  blows,  dividing  into 
factions  around  him,  while  all  the  time  he  sat 
peacefully  just  as  if  nobody  was  there,  gazing 
at  his  hand.  And  finally  the  King  sent  officers 
to  say  to  him :  Depart  quickly  from  the  city, 
for  thy  presence  is  a  cause  of  sedition.  There- 
upon Pinga  said:  Interrupt  my  meditation, 
and  I  will  curse  the  city,  so  as  to  deprive  it 
of  both  sun  and  rain.  So  fearing  his  curse, 
the  King  had  recourse  to  diplomacy.  And 
he  sent  his  purohita  at  night,  who  secretly  in- 
duced that  obstinate  ascetic  to  go  away,  of  his 
own  accord,  by  giving  him  a  lakh.  And  as 
he  slowly  went  out  of  the  city,  his  chela  said 
to  him  aside:  Master,  what  was  the  subject 
of  thy  meditation,  for  I  am  curious  to  know? 
Then  that  crafty  ascetic  suddenly  laughed  like 
a  hyaena.  And  he  said:  I  meditated  about 
absolutely  nothing  but  my  own  hand.  And 
now,  this  is  a  lesson  to  thee.  For  such  is  the 
nature  of  fools,  who  comprehend  least  of  all 


70  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

what  is  absolutely  simple,  and  see  last  of  all 
what  is  lying  before  their  nose.  And  whoever 
knows  this  possesses  treasure  inexhaustible, 
and  is  master  of  the  world. 


V 


And  Babhru  watched  her  intently,  as  she 
spoke,  and  when  she  ended,  he  said  suddenly 
and  abruptly:  Aranyani,  thou  art  deceiving 
me.  And  she  said:  How,  O  Babhru?  And  he 
said :  Thou  art  this  morning  totally  unlike  thy- 
self, for  thy  customary  melancholy  is  absent, 
and  thou  art  strange,  and  elated,  and  agitated, 
and  as  it  seems  to  me,  thou  art  telling  me  idle 
stories,  like  one  that  listens  all  the  while  to 
something  else,  as  it  were  in  a  hurry,  merely  to 
throw  me  off  the  scent,  and  hide  from  me  a 
secret,  and  amuse  me  like  a  child.  And  some- 
how or  other,  I  feel  as  if  there  were  a  wall  be- 
tween us  this  morning,  which  was  never  there 
before.  Aye!  I  am  sure,  I  know  not  how, 
thou  art  playing  as  it  were  a  part,  to  cast  a 
mist  before  my  eyes,  and  hide  from  me  some 

agitation  in  thy  soul. 

71 


72  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

And  Aranyani  laughed,  and  blushed,  and 
frowned,  and  finally  she  said:  Babhru,  thy 
love  is  a  disease,  which  fills  thy  head  with 
nightmare,  and  thy  eyes  with  phantoms  born 
of  suspicion  in  thy  soul.  And  he  said:  Alas! 
thy  own  behaviour  gives  the  lie  to  thee.  Thou 
art  not  like  thy  self,  and  I  am  right.  And 
now,  then,  I  will  tell  thee,  in  return  for  thy 
stories,  one  myself;  but  unlike  them,  mine 
shall  be  very  sad,  and  very  true. 

And  Aranyani  turned,  and  looked  at  him 
with  anxiety  in  her  eyes:  and  she  said:  O 
Babhru,  a  story,  and  from  thee!  what  is  it? 
And  he  said:  Dost  thou  remember,  a  little 
while  ago,  when  we  wandered,  the  last  time 
I  saw  thee,  in  the  wood?  And  she  said:  Yes. 
Then  he  said:  Dost  thou  recollect,  how  all  at 
once  I  stopped  thee,  and  turned  back  with 
thee,  and  left  thee  so  abruptly?  And  shall 
I  tell  thee  why?  And  Aranyani  gazed  at 
him,  turning  a  little  paler,  without  speaking. 
Then  he  said:  Know,  that  as  we  went,  I 
looked,  and  suddenly  I  saw  before  me  in  the 
bushes,  what  was  unseen  by  thee,  the  face  of 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  73 

a  man.  And  as  I  saw  it,  I  shuddered,  for 
his  eyes  were  fixed  on  thee  with  astonish- 
ment, and  evil  admiration.  And  instantly  I 
turned,  and  took  thee  home,  and  left  thee,  and 
hurried  back  to  find  him:  but  he  was  gone. 
I  hunted  everywhere,  but  he  was  gone.  And 
ever  since,  I  cannot  even  sleep,  for  thinking  of 
this  man,  and  of  his  eyes,  which  haunt  me,  as 
they  gloated  on  thee,  like  a  terror,  bidding  me 
beware,  and  saying  as  it  were:  Ha!  Ha!  thy 
treasure  is  discovered.  And  I  resemble  one, 
whose  buried  hoard  of  gold  has  been  seen  by 
other  eyes;  and  hardly  do  I  dare  to  be  away 
from  thee,  not  as  before,  merely  for  love  of 
thee,  but  for  fear,  lest,  on  returning,  I  should 
find  my  treasure  gone. 

And  all  at  once,  he  burst  into  a  sob;  and 
he  rose,  and  took  a  step  or  two  away  from 
her.  And  Aranyani  rose  also,  and  she  said 
with  agitation:  O  Babhru,  what  was  he  like, 
this  man?  Was  he  tall  and  powerful,  like 
thee?  And  Babhru  said:  Nay,  he  was  a 
little  ugly  man,  with  weasel  eyes.  And  Aran- 
yani laughed,  as  if  with  relief.     And  she  ex- 


74  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

claimed:  O  Babhru,  what  is  this?  Is  this  a 
man  of  whom  to  be  afraid?  What!  shall  I 
fall  a  victim  to  this  little  man  with  weasel 
eyes,  who  hides  in  bushes?  Be  under  no 
concern,  for  so  much  I  will  tell  thee,  that  not 
even  a  hundred  such  pigmies  shall  ever  carry 
me  away. 

And  Babhru  said  sadly:  Alas!  Aranyani, 
thou  dost  not  understand :  and  like  the  flower 
in  thy  hair,  thou  art  utterly  ignorant  of  thy 
own  attraction.  And  exactly  such  a  man  as 
this,  whom  thou  despisest,  is  the  most  danger- 
ous of  all.  Dost  thou  think,  if  once  through 
his  agency  the  world  should  suddenly  become 
aware  of  what  this  wood  contains,  it  would 
long  remain  un visited  by  others?  It  was  not 
the  face  of  the  intruder  that  I  feared,  but  his 
tongue,  which,  could  I  but  have  caught  him, 
I  would  have  cut  out  of  his  throat,  to  keep 
it  from  betraying  thy  existence  to  the  world 
outside. 

And  as  he  looked  towards  her,  with  tears  in 
his  eyes,  all  at  once  Aranyani  changed  colour, 
turning  suddenly  paler,  as  if  her  heart,  appalled 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  75 

by  the  apparition  of  some  menace  in  his  words, 
had  summoned  to  its  assistance  all  the  blood 
in  her  face.  And  after  a  while  she  said :  Babhru, 
thou  art  ill,  and  thy  unfortunate  affection  not 
only  makes  thee  overestimate  my  value,  but 
even  leads  thee  to  alarm  thyself  and  me, 
by  creating  imaginary  fears.  And  moreover, 
come  what  may,  the  mischief,  if  any  mischief 
is,  is  done,  and  the  tongue  that  is  thy  bugbear 
is  safe  and  at  a  distance  in  its  owner's  head, 
talking,  very  probably,  of  anything  but  me. 
But  now,  while  we  ourselves  are  talking,  time 
has  fled,  and  it  is  nearly  noon;  for  the  shadows 
are  at  shortest;  and  now,  I  dare  not  let  thee 
stay  here  any  longer;  as,  indeed,  I  was  to  blame 
in  allowing  thee  to  stay  at  all ;  and  better  had 
it  been  for  both  of  us,  it  may  be,  hadst  thou 
never  come.  And  should  my  father  suddenly 
return,  and  find  thee,  it  would  be  worse.  Why 
need  I  tell  thee  what  thou  knowest  very  well? 
And  what  good  can  come  to  thee,  by  longing 
for  what  is  forbidden?  Thou  dost  only  add 
fuel  to  the  flame  of  thy  fever,  which  I,  did  I  do 
my  duty,  ought  rather  to  quench,  by  pouring 


76  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

over  it  the  cold  water  of  distance  and  separa- 
tion. But  my  compassion  for  thee  fights  with 
my  obedience  to  my  father,  for  I  am  only  a 
woman  after  all,  and  very  weak;  and  it  may 
be,  I  love  thee  just  a  very  little.  So  be  con- 
tent with  all  that  I  can  give  thee,  and  do  not 
come  again,  but  recover  from  thy  fears,  and 
forget  me.  I  cannot  be  thy  wife,  but  I  wish 
thee  well.  And  now  good-bye,  and  go  away. 
So  as  she  stood,  dismissing  him,  Babhru 
turned  without  a  word,  and  went  away  into  the 
wood,  very  slowly,  while  she  watched  him  go. 
And  she  put  both  her  hands  behind  her  head, 
and  stood  looking  after  him,  absolutely  still. 
And  as  fate  would  have  it,  he  turned  round, 
just  before  he  passed  out  of  sight,  and  looked 
back,  and  saw  her  standing,  gazing  after  him 
with  a  smile,  with  every  outline  of  her  round 
and  slender  woman's  form  standing  out  sharp 
as  the  moon's  rim,  as  if  on  purpose  to  intoxi- 
cate his  eye,  against  the  background  of  the 
distant  sand,  like  a  threefold  incarnation  of 
his  inaccessible  desire,  and  his  disappearing 
happiness,  and  his  irrevocable  farewell,  in  a 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  77 

feminine  shape.  And  all  at  once  he  came  back 
to  her  with  hurried  steps.  And  he  reached  her, 
and  fell  down  before  her,  and  seized  a  corner 
of  her  red  garment  that  was  loose,  and  kissed 
it.  And  then  he  started  up.  And  he  said,  in 
a  voice  that  rhook,  with  tears  stealing  from 
his  eyes :  Well  I  understand  that  I  am  looking 
at  thee  for  the  very  last  time. 

And  then  he  turned,  and  went  away  very 
quickly,  without  looking  round:  while  she 
stood  in  agitation,  looking  after  him,  till  he 
disappeared  among  the  trees. 


II 

A  GLAMOUR  OF  NOON 


79 


II 

A  GLAMOUR   OF   NOON 


So  she  stood,  a  long  while,  gazing  in  the 
direction  of  his  departure,  touched  by  his 
emotion,  into  an  emotion  that  was  more  than 
half  compassion,  of  her  own,  and  sorry,  yet 
fearing  above  all  things  to  see  him  return.  And 
then  at  last,  as  if  satisfied  that  he  was  actually 
gone,  she  turned  away.  And  she  murmured  to 
herself:  Alas!  poor  Babhru,  hadst  thou  but 
known  how  near  thy  fear  came  to  the  very 
truth,  I  doubt  whether  I  could  ever  have  got 
thee  to  go  away  at  all.  And  even  as  it  is,  it  is 
a  wonder  that  he  has  not  actually  discovered 
what  his  jealousy  prompted  him  to  guess:  and 
all  the  while  I  trembled,  feeling  a  very  culprit, 

o  81 


82  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

so  accurately  did  he  probe  my  soul,  and  see  into 
my  heart.  And  wonderful  exceedingly  is  the 
sagacity  of  love,  that  discerns,  from  the  very 
faintest  indications,  what  would  escape  all 
other  eyes !  And  yet,  for  all  his  acuteness,  how 
little  did  he  dream  that  I  knew,  by  experience, 
what  love  is,  better,  far  better,  than  himself. 
He  knew  that  I  deceived  him,  but  did  not  know 
how  far.  And  after  all,  what  shadow  of  a 
right  has  he  to  claim  my  affection  for  himself? 
But  now  he  has  had  his  turn  and  all  that  I 
could  give  him :  and  now,  then,  it  is  my  turn, 
and  it  is  time,  and  it  is  noon. 

And  then,  all  at  once,  Babhru,  and  every- 
thing concerning  him,  vanished  clean  out  of  her 
mind.  And  strange !  she  changed,  as  if  by  magic, 
in  an  instant,  into  another  woman.  For  as  she 
stood,  unconsciously  she  smiled,  and  the  smile 
ran,  as  it  were,  over  her  whole  body  with  a  sud- 
den wave  of  delicious  agitation,  and  from  a 
woman  that  she  was,  lording  it,  as  if  with  a  sense 
of  superiority,  she  turned  into  a  child,  trembling 
all  over  with  the  excitement  of  anticipation. 
And  she  looked  very  carefully  all  round  her,  as 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  83 

if  to  make  sure  of  being  unobserved ;  and  all  at 
once,  she  ran  very  quickly  away  into  the  wood, 
turning  her  back  on  Babhru,  down  the  hill 
towards  the  sand.  And  coming  at  length  to  a 
little  clump  of  trees,  she  stopped  abruptly,  and 
clapped  her  hands.  And  at  that  very  instant, 
as  if  he  had  been  waiting  for  the  signal,  Atirupa 
issued  from  the  trees.  And  Aranyani  ran  to- 
wards him,  breathless,  half  with  running,  and 
halt  with  the  agitation  of  the  joy  of  reunion, 
and  threw  herself  into  his  arms,  with  a  cry. 

And  then,  for  a  while,  that  pair  of  lovers 
did  nothing  but  kiss  each  other  all  over,  with 
kisses  that  followed  one  another  like  raindrops 
in  a  storm.  And  after  a  while,  he  said:  Dear 
Aranyani,  thou  art  very  late,  and  like  the  little 
rogue  thou  art,  hast  kept  me  waiting,  as  I  think 
on  purpose,  to  make  thy  value  greater,  and  in- 
crease my  thirst,  till  I  had  almost  determined, 
in  despair,  to  go  away.  And  Aranyani  said  play- 
fully :  What !  couldst  thou  not  wait  for  me  a  little 
while,  and  am  I  not  worth  waiting  for  at  all  ? 
And  he  kissed  her  very  carefully  on  both  eyes, 
and  he  said:  Indeed  thou  art.     Then  she  said 


84  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

softly :  And  dost  thou  then  imagine  that  delay 
is  any  easier  to  me  than  to  thyself?  Know, 
that  I  had  difficulty,  in  coming  even  when  I 
did.  For  I  had  first  to  get  rid  of  someone  else, 
in  order  to  come  at  all.  And  Atirupa  said: 
Thy  old  lover,  of  whom  thou  hast  told  me? 
Then  she  said :  Thou  sayest  well,  my  old  lover, 
who  loves  me,  as  I  think,  far  better  than  thou 
dost,  and  almost  as  much  as  I  love  thee.  But 
alas  for  him!  since  I  love  him  not  again;  and 
well  will  it  be  for  me  if  in  thy  case  also  love  is 
not  wholly  on  one  side.  Say,  dost  thou  love 
me,  even  half  as  much  as  I  love  thee?  And 
Atirupa  said,  with  a  smile:  Nay,  if  I  must 
believe  thee,  it  is  impossible. 

And  she  gazed  at  him  with  insatiable  eyes, 
and  she  said  with  a  sigh :  Yes,  it  is  impossible. 
And  yet,  strange!  it  is  not  yet  a  week  since  I 
came  upon  thee  in  the  wood  for  the  very  first 
time,  thinking,  as  I  saw  thee,  that  the  very  God 
of  Love  had,  some  how  or  other,  dropped  out  of 
heaven,  and  wandering  about  on  earth,  had 
lost  his  way  in  our  wood,  only  for  my  destruc- 
tion ;  to  consume  me,  like  lightning  irresistible, 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  85 

only  by  a  look:  and  turn  me  suddenly  from 
free  into  a  slave,  the  property  of  another,  who 
is  master  of  her  body  and  her  soul.  And  yet, 
only  this  very  morning  did  I  learn  how  nearly 
I  had  lost  thee :  since  thy  servant  that  saw  me 
in  the  wood,  and  was  the  cause  of  thy  coming, 
came  within  an  ace  of  perishing  himself,  before 
he  ever  got  away  to  tell.  And  Atirupa  said: 
How?  And  Aranyani  told  him.  And  then 
she  said:  And  now  I  fear  for  thee  also:  for 
should  Babhru  chance  to  see  thee,  his  reason 
will  desert  him.  And  I  tremble  to  think  of 
thy  encounter  with  such  a  gaint  as  is  he.  And 
yet  I  know  not  what  to  do.  For  he  will  surely 
come  across  thee,  sooner  or  later,  as  indeed  it  is 
marvellous  that  he  has  not  done  already :  since 
thou  comest  daily  to  me  in  the  wood. 

And  Atirupa  laughed,  and  he  said:  Fear 
nothing,  O  thou  with  the  eyes  of  a  gazelle:  for 
it  may  be  he  himself  that  would  suffer  most  by 
our  meeting.  Then  said  Aranyani:  It  is  ex- 
actly this  I  fear.  For  I  would  not  have  thee 
harm  him,  even  though  my  fear  is  all  for  thee. 
And  Atirupa  said:  There  is  a  very  easy  way 


86  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

to  solve  this  difficulty  and  deprive  thee  of 
all  cause  of  fear,  which  has  not  yet  occurred 
to  thee.  And  Aranyani  said:  What  is  that? 
And  Atirupa  said :  It  is  only  in  this  wood  that 
we  could  ever  meet  each  other.  But  what  if 
thou  shouldst  come  away  with  me,  O  thou  de- 
licious little  slave,  leaving  the  wood  behind 
thee,  to  a  place  he  cannot  reach? 


II 


And  then,  Aranyani  started,  and  looked  at 
him  with  eyes  that  were  filled  with  timidity 
and  dismay,  as  if  she  hardly  understood. 
And  after  a  while,  she  said:  What!  come 
away  with  thee!  it  is  impossible.  And  she 
gazed  at  him  in  terror,  while  Atirupa  looked 
at  her  steadily,  with  caressing  impenetrable 
eyes.  And  he  murmured  to  himself:  Now, 
then,  I  have  startled  my  beautiful  and  timid 
fawn,  but  the  seed  is  for  all  that  sown  in  her 
beating  heart.  And  now,  then,  we  shall  see, 
whether  I  can  get  her,  by  persuasion  and 
caresses  and  cajolery,  to  come  away  of  her 
own  accord;  or  whether,  as  I  do  not  wish,  I 
shall  have  to  carry  her  off  by  force.  For  she 
will  be  far  sweeter  if  she  yields  herself,  even 
though  reluctant,  than  if  I  have  to  make  her 
come   away,   whether   she  will   or   no.     And 

87 


88  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

presently  he  said  gently :  Dear  Aranyani,  dost 
thou  imagine  that  either  I  can  live  without  thee 
or  remain  for  ever  in  thy  wood?  For  even  as 
it  is,  I  have  been  living  in  the  wood,  on  thy 
account,  for  many  days,  at  a  distance  from  my 
capital,  neglecting  all  my  state  affairs;  and 
long  ago  my  ministers  must  have  wondered 
what  can  have  become  of  me.  So  of  two 
things,  one  is  absolutely  necessary:  and  either 
thou  must  come  away,  or  we  must  part. 

And  Aranyani  looked  at  him  steadily,  turn- 
ing very  pale.  And  she  murmured  in  be- 
wilderment :  Part !  Thou  and  I !  And  Atirupa 
said:  Dear,  thouseest,  the  very  notion  makes 
thee  pale.  Then  what  will  it  be  to  part,  in 
reality?  Couldst  thou  endure  to  live  with- 
out me?  Or  can  I  live  for  ever  in  the  wood? 
Then  what  remains  but  this  alone,  to  leave 
the  wood  thyself,  and  come  with  me,  since 
there  is  absolutely  no  other  way. 

And  Aranyani  drew  herself  away,  out  of  his 
arms;  and  she  stood,  looking  down  upon  the 
ground,  silent,  and  very  pale:  while  Atirupa 
watched  her,   standing  still,  with  eyes  that 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  89 

never  left  her  for  an  instant.  And  after  a 
while,  he  said  again:  Dear  Aranyani,  couldst 
thou  actually  think  it  could  continue  thus  for 
ever,  or  that  I  could  remain  for  ever,  as  I  am 
doing  now,  camping  in  the  wood,  and  coming 
every  day  to  see  thee? 

And  Aranyani  sighed,  and  she  said  very 
slowly,  still  looking  at  the  ground :  I  know  not, 
for  I  have  thought  of  absolutely  nothing,  since 
I  saw  thee,  but  thyself;  and  that  was  enough 
for  me,  and  more;  since  my  soul  was  so  full 
that  it  had  room  for  nothing  else.  And  all  the 
past  had  vanished,  and  the  future  did  not 
matter,  swallowed  up  in  the  present  which  was 
ecstasy,  and  intoxication,  and  thou.  How 
could  I  think  of  anything  at  all?  And  now 
thou  hast  suddenly  awaked  me  from  a  dream, 
which  in  my  folly  I  had  imagined  would  never 
have  an  end,  but  last  for  ever.  And  lo!  it 
is  gone,  and  all  is  over,  and  finished,  almost 
before  it  has  begun. 

And  Atirupa  said  in  a  whisper:  Say  rather, 
O  Aranyani,  that  the  dream  is  only  just 
beginning. 


90  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

And  she  answered  angrily :  Dost  thou  think 
it  then  so  easy  for  a  flower  to  consent  to  be 
torn  up  by  the  roots,  and  carried  from  its  home 
no  matter  where?  For  like  a  flower  I  am 
rooted  in  this  wood,  where  I  have  lived  and 
grown  since  the  beginning,  with  my  father  and 
the  trees,  and  the  creepers,  and  the  deer.    And 

4 

now  thou  hast  placed  thyself,  with  a  sudden 
flash  of  lightning,  in  opposition  to  it  all;  and 
thou  wouldst  make  me  choose,  threatening  to 
go  away  and  leave  me,  unless  I  sacrifice  it  all, 
to  go  into  the  darkness,  I  know  not  where 
with  thee.  Dost  thou  think  the  choice  is 
easy  which  will  utterly  destroy  me,  which- 
ever way  it  falls?  Thou  art  the  cause  of  all, 
and  resemblest  a  knife,  that  bids  me  to  consent 
and  rejoice,  while  it  cuts  my  heart  in  two, 
possessing  absolutely  no  heart  whatever  o£ 
its  own. 

And  Atirupa  said  gently:  Alas!  Aranyani, 
thou  art  utterly  unjust,  and  this  was  my  very 
fear,  that  when  I  offered  thee  to  choose  be- 
tween the  wood,  which  is  thy  past,  and  my- 
self, who  am  thy  future,  I   should  seem  to 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  91 

thee  utterly  of  no  account,  and  light  in  the 
balance,  weighed  against  what  I  asked  thee 
to  resign.  I  say,  thou  blamest  me  unjustly, 
when  I  am  absolutely  blameless,  unless  in- 
deed it  be  a  fault  to  love  thee,  for  which  not  I, 
but  thyself,  or  rather  the  Creator  is  to  blame, 
for  making  thee  exactly  what  thou  art.  Who 
can  blame  the  butter  for  melting  in  the  flame, 
or  make  it  a  crime  in  the  ocean,  for  rising 
in  tumult  and  agitation  at  the  sight  of  the 
tender  digit  of  the  moon?  Is  it  my  fault,  if 
I  must  go  away,  since  after  all  my  kingdom 
is  in  need  of  me,  and  even  as  it  is  I  have  re- 
mained here  too  long,  and  all  on  thy  account  ? 
And  what  can  I  do  but  ask  thee  to  come  with 
me,  since  unless  we  are  to  part,  there  is  ab- 
solutely nothing  else  to  do?  And  does  not 
every  maiden  do  the  same  ?  Did  not  Shakun- 
tala  abandon  her  home  and  her  relations  in 
the  forest,  to  follow  King  Dushmanta?  And 
did  not  even  the  Daughter  of  the  Snow 
abandon,  not  only  her  father,  but  even  her 
own  body,  for  the  sake  of  the  Moony-crested 
God?     And  art  thou  fearful,  O  thou  intoxi- 


92  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

eating  child,  to  go  into  the  dark?  But  what 
will  darkness  matter?  nay,  will  not  the  dark 
itself  become  nectar,  provided  I  am  there? 
Or  rather,  will  not  the  darkness  be  still 
darker,  and  gloomier,  and  blacker,  if  I  go 
away  and  leave  thee  by  thyself? 


Ill 


And  Aranyani  stood  for  a  moment,  when 
he  ended;  and  then  all  at  once  she  sank  down 
upon  the  ground,  and  hid  her  face  in  her  two 
hands,  and  began  to  sob.  And  after  a  while 
she  said  in  agitation:  What  hast  thou  done 
to  me?  For  till  I  saw  thee,  I  was  happy; 
and  now  I  am  torn  by  thee  utterly  in  two. 
For  I  cannot  bear  to  part  either  with  thee,  or 
with  my  father  and  my  home.  And  now  I 
could  wish  never  to  have  seen  thee,  and  well 
had  it  been  if  thy  servant  never  had  set  eyes 
on  me,  to  tell  thee,  and  bring  thee  to  the  wood. 
Why  hast  thou  come  hither  to  destroy  me? 
For  all  has  come  about  exactly  as  Babhru 
said  and  feared,  when  he  foretold  that  thy 
coming  would  be  my  utter  ruin. 

And  Atirupa  listened,  and  he  murmured  to 
himself:    She  has  fallen    into   the    snare,    by 

93 


94  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

avowing  her  vacillation,  and  allowing  herself 
to  debate,  instead  of  repudiating  my  proposal: 
and  now  it  will  be  my  own  fault  if  I  cannot 
turn  the  scale  in  my  own  favour,  by  playing  on 
her  agitated  heart.  And  he  said  coldly:  Ha! 
then,  as  I  thought,  it  is  Babhru  who  causes 
all  the  trouble;  and  he  it  is  whom  thou  art 
so  unwilling  to  resign. 

And  instantly  Aranyani  started  up,  and 
exclaimed  with  vehemence  and  indignation: 
What!  dost  thou  taunt  me,  dost  thou  actually 
dare  to  taunt  me,  with  Babhru,  whom  I  have 
sacrificed  without  a  thought  to  thee?  Alas! 
poor  Babhru.  Little  does  he  resemble  thee, 
for  so  far  from  taking  me  away,  he  would  live 
at  my  bidding  even  in  a  desert,  and  give  up  a 
hundred  kingdoms,  if  he  had  them,  for  my 
sake.  And  Atirupa  said:  Then  be  it  as  thou 
wilt,  for  I  will  not  be  his  rival.  Go  with  him 
to  thy  desert,  and  I  will  go  to  mine. 

And  he  turned,  as  if  to  go  away  in  anger. 
But  as  he  went,  Aranyani  sprang  towards 
him  with  a  shriek.  And  she  seized  him  by 
the  arm,  and  shook  it  passionately,  exclaim- 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  95 

ing:  Away  with  Babhru!  0  forgive  me,  for 
I  am  mad,  and  I  know  not  what  I  say  or  do. 
What  is  Babhru  in  comparison  with  thee? 
Only  be  not  angry,  and  do  not  go;  do  not 
leave  me,  for  thy  going  is  my  death.  And 
she  clutched  him,  and  caught  him  by  the 
neck,  and  drawing  his  face  violently  down  to 
her,  she  began  to  kiss  him  without  ceasing, 
mingling  the  rain  of  her  kisses  with  the  shower 
of  her  tears.  And  after  a  while,  she  drew 
back,  and  holding  his  neck  very  tightly  with 
her  left  arm,  she  gazed  intently  at  his  face, 
as  if  in  meditation,  drawing  her  finger  slowly 
all  around  it,  and  over  each  eyebrow,  and 
round  and  round  his  mouth,  over  and  over 
again.  And  then  all  at  once  she  threw  her 
right  arm  also  round  his  neck,  and  hid  her 
face  upon  his  breast,  exclaiming,  while  her 
own  breast  beat  like  a  wave  upon  his  heart: 
Either  thou  never  shouldst  have  come,  or 
shouldst  never  go  away. 

And  Atirupa  stood  quietly,  supporting  her 
in  his  arms,  and  allowing  her  to  do  with 
him  exactly  as  she  pleased.     And  finally,  he 


96  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

stroked  her  hair  gently  with  his  hand,  and 
murmured  to  himself:  Now  very  soon,  I 
think,  she  will  consent,  as  it  were  without  con- 
senting, to  come  away,  after  a  little  coaxing. 
And  he  said  aloud:  Dear  Aranyani,  it  is  not  I 
that  am  tearing  thee  in  two,  as  thou  sayest: 
but  it  is  rather  thou  thyself  that  art  pulling  thy 
soul  to  pieces,  utterly  without  a  cause.  Truly 
wonderful  is  love,  that  fills  his  victims  with 
fears  that  are  absurd,  and  makes  them 
see  before  them  dangers  that  do  not  exist 
at  all ! 

And  all  at  once  Aranyani  raised  her  head, 
and  began  to  laugh,  looking  at  him  strangely, 
and  saying  to  herself:  These  were  my  very 
words  to  Babhru,  only  an  hour  ago.  And 
Atirupa  said:  Now,  then,  thou  art  laughing, 
equally  without  a  cause:  but  why?  And  she 
said:  It  is  nothing.  Then  he  said:  Is  it  thy 
reason  returning  to  thee  that  makes  thee  laugh 
instead  of  weep  ?  For  why  should  it  so  frighten 
and  disturb  thee,  to  think  of  leaving  all  behind 
for  me?  Dost  thou  think  I  cannot  give  thee 
compensation,  ten  thousand  times  over,  for 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  97 

all  thou  lettest  go?     Then  of  what  art  thou 
afraid? 

And  Aranyani  raised  her  head,  and  looked 
fixedly  straight  into  his  eyes,  and  yet  strange ! 
seeing  nothing,  for  her  soul  was  absent,  think- 
ing not  of  him  at  all,  but  of  Babhru.  And 
she  said  within  herself:  Can  it  be,  that  what 
Babhru  is  to  me,  that  I  am  to  another,  and 
that  of  every  pair  of  lovers,  one  only  loves? 
And  what  then  will  be  my  fate,  if  I  follow  him 
in  spite  of  all,  only  to  discover,  that  just  as  I 
left  Babhru  in  the  lurch,  so  I  myself  shall  be 
abandoned,  it  may  be,  for  some  other  woman's 
sake?  And  at  the  thought,  she  shuddered,  and 
grew  cold  all  over,  and  turned  suddenly  paler 
than  a  waning  moon. 


IV 


And  Atirupa  saw  it,  and  was  puzzled,  under- 
standing nothing  of  what  was  passing  in  her 
soul.  And  he  drew  her,  half -resisting,  once 
more  towards  him,  and  began  again  to  caress 
her  hair,  saying  as  he  did  so,  very  slowly: 
Aranyani,  thou  art  in  very  truth,  for  thy 
timidity  and  thy  eyes,  own  sister  to  the  deer: 
and  yet,  somehow,  I  would  not  have  it  other- 
wise, for  thy  timidity  is  not  less  beautiful  than 
those  great  eyes  which  it  fills  with  appre- 
hension and  distrust:  and  wert  thou  brave, 
thy  soft  body  would  not  quiver,  to  fill  me  with 
emotion,  nor  should  I  now  be  tasting,  as  I  kiss 
thee,  the  salt  beauty  of  those  pearls,  thy  tears. 
Stand  still,  then,  a  little  while,  O  pretty  little 
coward,  and  if  thou  wilt,  tremble  yet  a  little  in 
my  arms,  and  grow  calm,  and  let  me  reassure 

thee:  for  thou  takest  fright  at  the  noise  of 

98 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  99 

every  rustling  leaf,  not  stopping  to  consider 
whether  there  be  really  anything  to  injure  thee 
or  no.  And  now  let  me  ask  thee:  I  have  told 
thee  who  I  am,  and  shown  thee  many  things, 
even  of  thyself,  that  were  unknown  to  thee: 
for  so  far  from  being  strangers,  we  are  actu- 
ally kin.  And  why  then  shouldst  thou  fear  to 
come  away?  for  to  whom  shouldst  thou  come 
if  not  to  thy  own  kindred?  And  yet,  that  is  the 
very  reason  why  I  cannot  ask  thy  father  for 
thee.  For  dost  thou  think,  should  I  go  to  him, 
and  ask  him,  he  would  bestow  thee  on  me,  or 
let  thee  go  away?  Say,  would  he  consent? 
And  Aranyani  said,  in  a  low  voice:  If,  as  thou 
hast  told  me,  thou  really  art  the  son  of  Jaya, 
then  rather  would  he  see  me  lying  dead  at  his 
feet.  And  Atirupa  said:  Thou  seest.  Yet 
why  should  thou  and  I  be  enemies,  because  our 
parents  were?  And  what  then,  0  Aranyani, 
of  the  other?  Would  thy  Babhru  let  thee  go? 
And  she  said:  Nay,  rather  would  he  slay  thee, 
or  himself,  or  it  may  be  even  me.  Then  said 
Atirupa:  O  foolish  one,  canst  thou  then  not 
bring  thyself  to  comprehend,  that  since  I  must 


ioo  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

absolutely  go  and  none  will  let  thee  go,  either 
thou  must  come  away  with  me,  or  stay  here  by 
thyself?  And  yet,  when  I  show  thee  the  neces- 
sity, thou  art  ready  to  consume  me  like  a  straw 
in  the  flame  of  thy  reproaches.  What  then? 
Wouldst  thou  have  me  go  away  secretly,  saying 
nothing?  And  wouldst  thou  not  then  exclaim 
against  me  as  a  traitor,  never  seeing  me  return? 
And  dost  thou  think  it  easy  for  me  to  go  away, 
leaving  thee  behind?  I  tell  thee,  I  cannot  go 
away  without  thee,  and  yet  I  cannot  stay. 
Then  only  tell  me,  what  to  do.  Say,  little 
cousin,  why  wilt  thou  fear  to  come  away  with 
me?  I  marvel  rather  that  thou  dost  not  fear 
to  stay.  What  wilt  thou  do  alone,  when  I 
am  gone?  Will  thy  father  console  thee  for 
my  absence,  thy  father  who  leaves  thee  all 
alone?  or  will  Babhru  make  up  to  thee  for 
thy  sending  me  away?  I  tell  thee,  they  will 
both  become  so  hateful  in  thy  sight,  that  thou 
wilt  run  away  of  thy  own  accord,  merely  to 
escape  from  them,  no  matter  where.  And 
then  thou  wilt  bitterly  regret  thy  scruples, 
all  too  late,  having  lost  the  opportunity  that 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  101 

never  will  return;  for  if  I  go  without  thee, 
I  shall  never  come  again.  But  my  image 
will  haunt  thee,  and  follow  thee  about  like 
a  shadow,  to  darken  all  thy  life,  and  instead 
of  a  rapture  ever  present,  I  shall  be  to  thee 
a  memory  of  bitterness,  and  everlasting  self- 
reproach,  and  vain  remorse.  And  thou  wilt 
grow  gradually  older,  alone,  being  in  thy 
own  eyes  a  thing  intolerable,  as  having  cast 
away  a  priceless  gem,  delicious  companion- 
ship, friendship,  and  affection,  that  Fortune 
herself  fished  thee  from  the  deep, only  to  see 
her  present  thrown,  with  ingratitude,  by  thee, 
away.  And  in  thy  loneliness  thou  wilt  seek  in 
vain  to  flee  even  from  thyself,  and  it  may  be, 
judging  thy  life  utterly  unendurable,  thou  wilt 
seek  refuge  from  its  horror  in  a  death  of  thy 
own  contriving,  having  missed  the  very  fruit 
of  thy  birth,  and  ending  like  a  blunder  of  the 
Creator,  and  a  thing  that  had  better  not  have 
been. 


And  as  he  spoke,  he  felt  Aranyani  on  his 
breast,  sobbing  till  she  shook  him,  as  if  to  say: 
Cease,  for  thou  art  driving  a  knife  into  my 
heart.  And  yet  he  went  on  slowly,  as  if  his 
very  object  were  to  stab  her  to  the  quick. 
And  then,  all  at  once  he  changed.  And  he 
whispered  in  her  ear:  Dear  cousin,  why  dost 
thou  so  obstinately  destroy  thyself  and  me? 
What!  dost  thou  make  believe  to  love  me, 
calling  thyself  slave,  and  yet  refuse  to  follow 
me  wherever  I  may  go?  Or  dost  thou  think 
that  thou  art  dreaming,  mistaking  a  shadow 
for  reality,  expecting  suddenly  to  wake,  and 
find  nothing  in  thy  arms,  and  thy  vision  of 
happiness  a  phantom,  vanishing  like  the 
picture  in  the  desert,  leaving  nothing  but  the 
sand?  Thou  resemblest  a  very  foolish  little 
deer,  that  for  idle  fear  of  falling  victim  to 


102 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  103 

delusion,  should  absolutely  refuse  to  drink, 
even  at  a  pool.  O  deer,  what  can  ever  con- 
vince thee  of  the  reality  of  water,  if  thou 
wilt  not  believe,  even  when  thou  art  actually 
standing,  as  at  present,  knee-deep  in  the  lake? 
Must  the  very  future  become  present,  before 
thou  wilt  trust  thyself  to  credit  what  it  holds? 
But  thou  askest  impossibility,  and  like  every 
other  maiden,  thou  canst  not  experience  the 
future  till  it  comes.  Hast  thou,  then,  no  faith 
in  me  at  all?  Out,  out,  upon  the  love  that  can- 
not trust !  0  Aranyani,  surely  thy  love  is  very 
small,  and  a  mere  imitation  and  counterfeit 
of  love :  for  as  a  rule,  true  love  is  tested  by  its 
power  of  putting  faith  in  what  it  loves.  See, 
then,  thou  unbeliever,  I  will  try  to  bring  the 
future  before  thy  very  eyes,  and  as  I  did  be- 
fore, when  I  told  of  the  life  that  lay  before  thee 
by  thyself,  so  now  will  I  paint  for  thee  another 
picture,  to  show  thee  an  image  of  that  life  that 
thou  wilt  forfeit,  by  sending  me  away  alone. 
And  he  paused  for  a  moment,  as  if  reflect- 
ing on  his  coming  words.  But  he  murmured 
to  himself:  I  feel  that  she  is  hesitating,  and 


104  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

trembling  in  the  balance;  resembling  a  fruit 
that  fears  to  fall,  yet  knows  that  its  very  nature 
dooms  it  to  be  eaten,  and  is  half  inclined 
on  that  account  to  drop  of  its  own  accord. 
And  now,  with  a  little  shaking,  she  will  drop 
into  my  hand:  since  like  a  very  woman,  she 
cannot  say  either  yes  or  no,  wishing  to  be 
forced  along  the  path  which  all  the  while  she 
longs,  yet  is  terribly  afraid,  to  tread.  And 
now  then  will  I  bait  the  hook  with  flat- 
tery, and  we  shall  see  whether  this  golden 
fish  will  not  swallow  it  as  greedily  as  all  her 
silver  sisters,  resembling  as  they  do  delicate 
and  fragile  foolish  ware  that  sells  itself  in  a 
market  created  by  its  own  vanity,  where  false 
coin  passes  easily  without  detection,  and  is 
even  more  potent  and  valuable  than  true. 
And  yet  in  her  case,  flattery  is  very  easy,  for 
the  grossest  is  only  the  simple  truth. 

And  presently  he  said,  in  a  very  low  voice: 
Aranyani,  tell  me:  am  I  beautiful?  And 
she  said,  after  a  while,  with  her  face  hidden  in 
his  breast:  Why  ask  me  to  repeat  what  I 
have   told   thee   in   every    way    a    thousand 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  105 

times  already?  Then  he  said:  And  does  it 
not  occur  to  thee,  that  thou  givest  me  what 
I  give  thee?  And  so  we  are  a  pair,  for  if  my 
beauty  is  an  idol  to  thee,  what  else  is  thine  to 
me?  But  thou,  all  ignorant  of  thy  own  ex- 
traordinary charm,  art  incredulous,  not  under- 
standing that  I  also  am  a  devotee  to  the  spell 
of  thy  dreamy  eyes,  and  the  aromatic  fragrance 
of  thy  hair,  and  the  clinging  prison  of  thy  soft 
round  arms,  and  the  taste  of  thy  delicious  lips, 
whose  kisses  cool,  like  snowflakes,  by  their  leaf- 
like, half-involuntary  fall,  the  burning  caused 
by  the  touch  of  thy  trembling  breast,  when  it 
beats  on  my  heart  like  the  surge  of  the  sea. 
And  should  we  separate,  that  were  made  for 
one  another  like  Maheshwara  and  the  Daugh- 
ter of  the  Snow?  Nay,  we  will  rather  grow 
together,  thou,  like  the  creeper,  clinging  ever 
to  me,  just  as  thou  art  doing  now,  indistin- 
guishable from  the  tree  which  is  myself.  And 
thou  shrinkest  from  the  darkness,  but  I  will 
be  thy  darkness  and  thy  night,  O  thou  slender 
digit  of  the  moon.  What  WOtddst  thou  do 
without  thy  night,  O  moon?     Or  didst  thou 


io6  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

say,  thyself,  thou  wert  a  flower?  Well,  thou 
shalt  be  my  blue  lotus,  and  I  will  be  thy  pool : 
looking  into  which,  thou  shalt  see  thy  own  re- 
flection, and  rejoice.  Or,  if  thou  wilt,  I  will 
play  the  river,  and  thou  shalt  be  the  silver 
swan  that  floats  upon  its  breast.  What !  wilt 
thou  take  from  the  river  all  its  beauty,  by 
refusing  to  float  upon  the  water  that  only 
longs  to  be  adorned  by  so  beautiful  a  burden? 
Or  better  still,  thou  shalt  be  my  mango 
blossom,  and  I,  thy  mad  black  bee,  living  only 
to  plunder  my  shy  sweet  blossom  of  its  in- 
toxicating wine;  aye,  without  thee,  I  should 
indeed  resemble  a  golden  cup,  without  the 
wine  that  gives  it  all  its  use  and  worth.  Thou 
art  the  salt  of  me,  the  ocean,  and  the  pearl 
within  my  shell:  and  with  thee,  I  shall  be  a 
very  Wishnu,  with  thee,  for  my  Fortune  and 
my  Shri.  And  like  a  word,  I  should  be  utterly 
meaningless  without  thee,  who  art  my  mean- 
ing and  my  soul.  And  wouldst  thou  separate, 
and  sever  me  from  thee?  Nay,  nay,  O  cousin, 
we  will  live  together,  not  like  accidental  waifs 
that  haply  meet  to  part  again  upon  the  waves 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  107 

of  time,  but  rather  like  two  happy  children 
playing  King  and  Queen,  drifting  in  a  golden 
boat  along  the  crystal  stream  of  life,  never  so 
much  as  touching  on  a  shoal,  but  gliding  on, 
sometimes  plying  silver  oars,  and  sometimes 
spreading  a  purple  sail  to  catch  the  sandal- 
scented  breeze  that  blows  from  Malaya  loaded 
with  the  lazy  odour  of  the  South,  letting  all 
the  hours  slip  past  us  unperceived,  till  we 
float  away  together  into  the  open  sea  of  Death. 


VI 


And  as  he  murmured,  holding  Aranyani  in 
arms  that  added  emphasis  by  the  affection  of 
their  pressure  to  the  persuasion  of  his  voice, 
all  at  once  she  tore  herself  away  from  him 
abruptly,  and  went  and  stood,  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, by  herself,  silent,  and  looking  out  upon 
the  sand.  And  Atirupa  stood  still,  watching 
her  with  curious,  half -passionate,  half  medita- 
tive eyes.  And  he  said  within  himself:  She  is 
standing  on  the  very  edge  of  the  precipice,  into 
which  she  is  just  about  to  fall,  irresolute,  and 
dizzy,  and  distracted  by  an  arbitration  which 
she  dares  not  settle  either  way,  not  so  much  out 
of  desire  to  go,  or  stay,  but  rather  because  she  is 
equally  unable  and  unwilling,  either  to  stay,  or 
go :  and  in  the  agony  of  her  beautiful  perplexity, 
she  is  craving  to  be  delivered  from  the  choice, 

by  having  the  matter  settled  for  her ;  and  now, 

1 08 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  109 

the  weight  even  of  a  hair  would  turn  the  scale. 
And  he  drew  near  slowly,  and  said,  after  a 
while:  Hast  thou  forgotten,  O  cousin,  that 
there  will  be  no  farewell  to  say  to  thy  surround- 
ings, though  thou  shouldst  leave  them  now? 
For  there  is  absolutely  nothing  to  prevent  thee 
from  returning  to  visit  them,  as  often  as  thou 
wilt.  But  still  she  answered  nothing,  re- 
maining with  her  back  turned  towards  him, 
exactly  as  before. 

And  once  again  he  said:  Aranyani,  dost 
thou  hear  me?  I  do  not  ask  thee  to  say 
good-bye  for  ever  to  the  wood. 

And  he  waited  for  a  while,  and  at  last,  as 
she  never  either  moved  or  spoke,  he  said  again : 
Since,  then,  thou  art  absolutely  determined, 
and  thy  mind  is  made  up  to  let  me  go  away 
alone:  it  is  well.  So,  now,  there  is  nothing 
left,  but  for  me  to  go.  And  I  must  absolutely 
depart,  whether  I  will  or  no.  For  my  king- 
dom requires  me,  and  my  retinue  is  waiting  at 
the  bottom  of  the  hill,  to  bring  me  over  the 
sand.  And  sometimes  in  the  wood  thou  wilt 
remember  me,  and  it  may  be,  offer  water  to  the 


no  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

ghost  of  our  dead  happiness,  and  the  love  that 
might  have  been,  for  in  this  wood  I  cannot  live, 
and  if  thou  wilt  not  come  away,  it  is  useless 
to  return.  So  bid  me  but  farewell,  and  I  will 
go,  and  thou  shalt  never  see  me  more. 

And  then  she  turned.  And  she  put  out  her 
hand  towards  him,  as  if  with  entreaty,  and 
made  a  single  step,  and  all  at  once  she  swayed, 
and  would  have  fallen,  but  that  he  caught  her 
in  his  arms.  And  she  said,  in  a  voice  so  low 
as  scarcely  to  be  heard:  Take  me,  if  thou 
must,  and  quickly,  for  in  another  moment,  I 
think  that  my  heart  will  break  in  two. 

And  then,  she  sank  down,  bereft  of  her 
reason,  and  lay  in  his  arms  in  a  swoon. 

And  Atirupa  stood  for  a  moment,  looking 
down  upon  her,  as  he  held  her  in  his  arms. 
And  he  said  to  himself,  as  if  half  in  irresolu- 
tion: So,  then,  it  is  over,  and  I  have  con- 
quered, and  she  has  yielded,  and  is  mine.  And 
yet,  somehow  or  other,  I  feel,  in  this  instance, 
a  touch  of  something  that  resembles  pity,  and 
there  is  as  it  were  a  sting,  resembling  that  of  a 
bee,  mixed  with  my  honey,  which  I  never  felt 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  in 

before.  For  after  all,  she  is  my  own  relation. 
And  what  will  she  do  when  she  finds  out  her 
mistake?  And  yet,  after  all,  the  mischief  is 
done,  and  now  it  is  too  late.  For  as  it  seems, 
she  will  break  her  heart,  in  a  little  while, 
whether  she  goes  away  with  me  or  not. 

And  then,  he  lifted  her  in  his  arms,  and  went 
away  quickly  through  the  trees,  down  the  hill. 


Ill 

THE  DESERT  AND  THE  NIGHT 


"3 


Ill 

THE  DESERT  AND  THE  NIGHT 


So,  then,  night  followed  day,  and  day  suc- 
ceeded night,  in  order.  And  the  new  moon 
waxed,  and  waned :  and  every  day  the  sun  rose 
up  as  usual,  and  travelled  slowly  on,  till  he 
sank  at  eve,  over  the  sand,  beyond  the  western 
hill.  And  then  at  last,  there  came  a  day,  when 
just  as  he  was  sinking,  it  happened  that  Bab- 
hru  sat  alone,  watching  him  as  he  went  down, 
at  that  very  same  place  in  the  wood  where  he 
had  parted  last  from  Aranyani,  the  day  she 
disappeared.  And  strange!  short  as  had  been 
the  interval  of  time,  he  was  altered,  and  it 
seemed  as  though  years  had  rolled  over  him, 
writing  on  him  in  an  instant  the  wrinkles  of 
old  age.     For  he  looked  like  an  incarnation  of 

115 


n6  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

dejection,  worn  and  wan,  with  eyes  that  were 
red  and  hollow,  as  if  sleep  had  fled  away  from 
them,  ousted  by  her  jealous  rivals,  sorrow 
and  her  sister  care.  And  as  he  saw  the  sun 
just  on  the  very  point  of  going  down,  he  mur- 
mured to  himself:  He  is  but  showing  me  the 
way,  and  now  very  soon,  I  shall  follow  his 
example,  abandoning  like  him  a  birth,  in  which 
my  business  is  done.  For  what  is  the  use  of 
this  miserable  body,  deserted  and  forsaken  by 
its  soul,  and  left  lying  empty,  and  utterly  for- 
gotten, and  despised?  not  even  knowing  where 
to  look,  or  where  that  soul  is  gone :  this  body, 
which  long  ago  I  would  have  quitted  not  only 
without  regretting  it,  but  even  with  delight, 
could  but  I  know  for  certain  that  Aranyani  is 
actually  dead,  and  unable  to  return:  since  but 
for  the  hope  of  that  return,  I  should  have 
ceased  to  live  these  many  days.  Alas!  I 
cannot  even  tell  whether  she  is  dead,  or  still 
alive.  And  yet  it  cannot  be:  she  is  not  dead. 
And  yet,  she  is  nowhere  to  be  found:  for  I 
have  searched  the  wood  a  hundred  times  from 
end  to  end,  till  there  is  not  a  single  one  of  all  its 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  117 

leaves  I  have  not  turned  upside  down,  and  all 
in  vain.  For  she  has  vanished  like  a  dream, 
leaving  not  so  much  as  even  the  shadow  of  a 
clue  behind:  and  she  resembles  a  drop  of  dew, 
dried  by  the  sun  at  noon  on  the  leaf  of  a  red 
lotus,  with  nothing  but  the  memory  of  those 
who  saw  it  in  the  morning  to  show  that  it  was 
ever  there.  She  has  gone,  I  know  not  how,  I 
know  not  where;  snatched  away  and  stolen, 
and  it  may  be  even  put  to  death,  or  something 
that  is  worse  than  any  death,  by  those  who 
have  carried  her  away,  I  know  not  who.  And 
O  alas!  that  I  ever  left  her.  I  only  was  to 
blame,  that  saw  the  evil  coming,  and  shrank 
in  terror  from  its  shadow,  like  a  bird  that  sees 
upon  the  ground  beside  it  the  shadow  of  the 
hawk.  I  left  her,  and  now,  beyond  a  doubt, 
hope  is  absolutely  over,  and  I  shall  never  see 
her  more.  And  why  then  should  I  delay,  or 
wait  to  see  another  sun?  But  what,  if  after 
all,  she  were  not  dead,  but  still  alive,  and 
should  return?  Then,  what  a  fool  I  should 
have  been,  to  die!  And  yet,  if  she  is  dead? 
Alas!  if  she  is  dead,  my  life  is  but  an  idle  waste 


ii8  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

of  time,  and  yet  I  dare  not  die,  for  fear,  lest 
after  all,  she  should  return. 

And  all  at  once,  he  stopped  short :  for  as  he 
spoke,  there  fell  upon  his  ear  a  noise.  And 
he  listened,  and  exclaimed :  I  hear  the  tramp 
of  horses,  approaching  in  the  wood.  And  he 
started  up,  like  his  own  heart,  that  began  to 
beat  violently,  as  if  catching  at  a  straw  of  hope, 
in  the  whirlpool  of  despair.  And  he  said  to 
himself:  Why  should  horses  be  coming  through 
the  wood  at  such  an  hour?  And  as  he  stood 
gazing,  with  a  soul  as  it  were  on  tiptoe,  in  the 
direction  of  the  sound,  a  rider  suddenly  issued 
from  the  trees,  and  came  towards  him,  followed 
by  others  like  himself.  And  as  they  reached 
him,  they  stopped ;  and  their  leader  dismounted 
from  his  horse,  and  came  towards  him,  hold- 
ing it  by  the  rein. 

And  when  Babhru  saw  his  face,  he  started, 
and  exclaimed  within  himself:  Ha!  why! 
that  is  the  very  face  that  I  saw  lurking  in  the 
bush.  And  then,  all  at  once,  he  shouted 
aloud:  Ha!  then,  it  was  thou;  it  is  thou,  as 
I  thought  who  art  the  robber,  after  all. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  119 

And  Chamu  laughed,  and  he  said:  O  wood- 
man, not  so  loud :  for  thou  art  hasty,  and  thou 
art  uncivil,  and  thou  art  altogether  wrong: 
though  so  far  thou  art  right,  that  we  are  old 
friends.  Yet  still  thou  art  unjust,  for  I  am 
not  the  robber.  It  was  not  I  that  carried  off 
thy  beauty  from  the  wood,  but  my  master, 
King  Atirupa.  And  thou  art  very  rude,  to 
call  even  him  a  robber.  For  he  did  not  steal 
thy  beauty,  but  only  borrowed  her,  for  a  little 
while,  all  with  her  own  consent.  And  now 
he  has  returned  her  by  my  hands :  and  here 
she  is. 

And  he  turned,  and  Babhru  looked,  and 
lo!  they  lifted  Aranyani  from  a  horse,  and 
set  her  on  the  ground.  And  as  Babhru  stood 
gazing  at  her,  like  one  struck  by  a  thunderbolt, 
Chamu  said  again :  Thou  owest  me  not  abuse, 
but  gratitude,  0  woodman,  for  see,  I  have 
brought  her  back  to  thee,  all  across  the  sand, 
where  many  in  my  place  would  have  left  her 
in  the  middle  of  the  way,  for  it  was  a  thankless 
task,  and  she  was  a  cross-grained  burden,  that 
was   very  loath  to  come  at  all.     So  as  thou 


120  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

seest,  thou  wert  very  wrong  to  call  even  Atir- 
upa  robber:  for  here  she  is  again.  And  the 
women  are  silly  creatures,  who  only  have 
themselves  to  blame,  since  they  flock  to  him, 
like  flies  to  honey,  all  of  their  own  accord.  But 
this  young  beauty  grew  so  peevish,  when  she 
found  she  was  only  one  of  a  thousand  others, 
that  the  Maharaja  could  not  keep  her  any 
longer.  And  now  she  will  make  thee  the  very 
best  of  wives,  woodman:  since  she  has  had 
some  lessons,  and  a  little  practice  in  the  art, 
and  come  back  richer  than  she  went  away: 
none  the  worse,  but  all  the  better,  for  having 
tasted  a  King's  kisses,  and  learned  her  trade  in 
the  best  of  schools.  Thy  eldest  son  will  be  a 
beauty,  even  if  all  the  others  are  as  ugly  as  thy- 
self. And  if  his  mother  calls  him  Atirupa, 
just  as  a  reminiscence,  never  mind:  for  when 
she  has  once  stopped  weeping  she  will  love  thee 
just  as  well  as  him. 

And  as  he  spoke,  Babhru  stared  at  him  with 
eyes  that  hardly  saw  him,  and  ears  that  hardly 
heard  him,  and  a  soul  that  hardly  understood, 
filled  as  it  was  to  the  very  brim  with  such  a 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  121 

flood  of  pity,  and  horror,  and  amazement,  and 
yet  delight  at  her  return,  no  matter  how,  that 
there  was  absolutely  no  room  at  all  for  even  a 
single  drop  of  wrath.  And  while  he  looked 
from  her  to  Chamu,  and  from  Chamu  back 
again  to  her,  Chamu  got  back  upon  his  horse, 
and  all  those  riders  rode  away. 


II 


But  Babhru  stood  exactly  where  he  was, 
like  a  picture  painted  on  a  wall,  hardly  heed- 
ing their  departure,  gazing  at  Aranyani.  And 
as  he  watched  her,  tears  rose  up  suddenly  and 
stood,  as  if  to  blind  him,  in  his  eyes,  springing 
from  the  well  of  the  very  ecstasy  of  compass- 
ion within  his  heart.  For  she  lay  half  crouch- 
ing, half  fallen  on  the  ground,  exactly  as  they 
had  set  her  down,  never  moving,  and  resem- 
bling a  body  that  is  all  but  dead.  And  her 
face,  that  was  turned  towards  him,  looked  ab- 
solutely strange  to  him,  so  marvellously  had  it 
altered  since  he  saw  it  last.  For,  as  it  seemed 
youth  and  joy  had  fled  from  it,  leaving  it  to 
be  as  it  were  a  very  battle-ground  for  grief  and 
age,  and  passion  and  shame,  and  humiliation, 
and  weariness,  and  despair.  And  instead  of 
her  forest  garments,  she  was  magnificently 

122 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  123 

dressed  and  yet  her  clothing  was  ill-arranged, 
and  disordered,  and  very  dusty;  and  her  hair 
was  all  dishevelled,  and  floated  loose  about  her 
head,  as  if  to  match  and  imitate  the  wild  dis- 
order of  her  soul  within.  And  yet,  somehow  or 
other  she  seemed  for  all  that,  in  his  eyes  even 
more  beautiful  than  ever,  with  a  beauty  that  ap- 
palled him  as  he  saw  it,  for  she  was  utterly  un- 
like herself,  as  if  her  own  soul  had  been  suddenly 
changed  into  another,  making  its  envelope  into 
something  other  than  it  was,  to  suit  the  al- 
teration. And  gradually  as  Babhru  watched 
her,  his  hair  stood  up  upon  his  body,  as  if 
with  fright,  and  anticipation  of  something 
coming,  that  he  did  not  understand. 

So  he  stood  silent,  watching  her,  forgetful  of 
himself,  with  a  soul  that  yearned  to  comfort  her 
and  soothe  her,  and  caress  her  and  console  her, 
yet  utterly  unable,  and  half  fearing,  to  say 
anything  at  all.  And  in  the  silence,  gradually 
dread  began  to  creep  all  over  him,  as  he 
saw  her  continue,  lying  absolutely  still,  and 
yet  every  now  anr]  then  breathing,  very 
slowly    and    with    difficulty,  like    one  that  is 


124  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

suffering  an  agony  of  pain.  And  at  last,  after 
a  long  while,  he  moved  a  little  nearer,  and  he 
said,  with  timidity  and  emotion:  O  Aranyani 
alas!  thou  art  suffering.  And  dost  thou  think 
I  can  endure  to  see  thee  suffer?  At  least,  at 
least,  thou  hast  returned,  no  matter  how.  O 
alas !  for  all  thy  suffering,  I  only  am  to  blame ; 
for  well  I  understood  I  was  wrong  to  abandon 
thee,  and  leave  thee  as  a  prey.  But  at  least, 
thou  hast  returned,  and  only  just  in  time:  for 
hadst  thou  stayed  away  another  day,  I  could 
not  have  endured.  I  thought  thee  dead,  for 
day  by  day,  I  waited,  and  day  by  day,  thou 
didst  not  come:  and  each  night  was  longer, 
and  more  awful  than  the  last.  And  I  sought 
thee  in  every  quarter  of  the  wood,  but  thou 
wert  not  to  be  found.  And  now,  lo! 
there  before  my  eyes,  hardly  to  be  believed, 
thou  art;  and  now  I  am  almost  ready 
once  more  to  die,  for  joy,  that  is  mingled, 
I  know  not  how,  with  an  agony  of  grief. 
And  yet,  I  blame  myself,  selfish  that  I  am, 
for  being  even  able  to  rejoice  at  all,  while 
thou  art  suffering.     Ah!   only  tell  me  what 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  125 

to  do,  to  share  thy  grief,  or  take  it  all  upon 
myself. 

And  as  he  spoke,  he  leaned  towards  her, 
and  looked,  and  lo!  a  tear  rolled  suddenly 
from  her  eye,  and  fell  upon  the  ground:  but 
she  never  stirred  or  spoke.  And  again  he 
said,  with  difficulty  and  hesitation:  Aranyani, 
dost  thou  think,  dost  thou  really  think,  thou 
art  guilty  in  my  eyes,  or  in  any  way  to 
blame,  because  ruffians,  attracted  by  thy 
beauty,  came  and  carried  thee  away?  Is  it 
any  fault  in  the  lotus,  if  the  traveller  that  sees 
it,  plucks  it,  and  wears  it  for  a  moment  in  his 
hair,  only  to  throw  it  presently  away,  and 
trample  it  underfoot?  Alas,  it  is  not  thou  but 
myself  that  I  condemn;  I,  only,  that  am  guilty, 
and  all  the  more,  that  whereas  now  I  ought 
to  weep  with  thee,  I  am,  on  the  contrary,  so 
transported  with  delight  to  see  thee,  returned 
to  me  no  matter  how,  that  I  am  almost  ready 
to  abandon  the  body  out  of  joy.  Or  art  thou 
fearful,  lest  I  should  torture  thee  with  curiosity, 
or  question,  or  reproach  of  any  kind?  Ah! 
no,  listen  now,  and  I  will  tell  thee.     Thou  shalt 


126  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

think,  if  thou  wilt,  of  all  that  has  occurred 
to  thee  as  nothing  but  a  dream,  from  which 
thou  hast  awoken.  Only  a  dream,  from  which 
thou  hast  awoken.  And  I,  that  never  knew  it, 
will  forget  it,  as  utterly  and  completely  as 
thyself:  and  it  is  already  buried  in  oblivion, 
and  resembles  a  thing  that  has  never  come 
about,  and  had  better  not  have  been. 

And  again  he  leaned  towards  her,  as  if  he 
were  a  culprit  that  begged  her  to  forgive  him, 
and  lo !  he  saw  the  tears  rolling  from  her  eyes 
in  a  stream,  as  if  something  in  his  words  were 
like  a  knife  in  her  heart.  But  still  she  never 
spoke,  and  never  stirred.  And  once  again  he 
said,  as  if  with  entreaty :  Aranyani,  thou  canst 
not  imagine,  even  in  a  dream,  what  happiness 
is  mine.  See !  thou  art  agitated,  and  it  must 
be,  very  weary.  And  now,  then,  I  will  lead 
thee,  or  if  thou  wilt,  carry  thee,  home.  And 
there  thou  shalt  sleep,  absolutely  undisturbed, 
for  to-night,  and  to-morrow,  and  as  long  as 
thou  shalt  choose.  And  all  the  while,  I  will 
watch  without,  and  bring  thee  food,  and  do 
everything  as  thou  wilt,  at  thy  bidding;  and 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  127 

above  all,  guard,  and  protect  thee,  from  any 
fresh  attempt.  Woe  to  the  man  who  shall  at- 
tempt to  molest  thee  any  more !  And  so  shalt 
thou  live,  exactly  as  thou  wilt,  with  me  for  thy 
servant.  And  very  soon,  even  the  memory  of 
that  which  now  distresses  thee  will  fade  out  of 
thy  soul.  And  there  will  be  absolutely  nobody 
to  make  thee  feel  ashamed,  or  in  any  way  what- 
ever bring  trouble  to  the  quiet  of  thy  soul.  For 
as  to  thy  father,  when  he  discovered  thy  dis- 
appearance, he  came  to  me,  thinking  I  had 
stolen  thee.  And  when  he  saw  instantly,  by 
my  frenzy,  he  was  wrong,  all  at  once  he 
cried  out:  Mother  and  daughter,  mother  and 
daughter:  this  is  a  stab  in  the  dark  from  Jaya. 
And  I  know  not  what  he  meant.  But  I  think 
that  his  heart  broke  within  him,  for  after  a  day 
or  two,  he  died. 


Ill 

And  then,  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  Aranyani 
started  to  her  feet,  with  a  scream  that  rang 
through  the  wood,  making  the  heart  of  Babhru 
suddenly  leap  into  his  throat.  And  she  threw 
up  her  arms,  with  agony,  and  all  at  once  she 
sprang  from  her  place,  and  darted  like  an 
arrow  from  a  bow  towards  the  hut.  And 
then  again,  almost  instantly,  as  he  stood  gazing 
at  her  in  dismay,  she  turned  sharp  round,  and 
began  to  run  away  in  the  opposite  direction 
like  a  deer.  And  as  if  waking  from  a  dream, 
he  began  to  pursue  her.  And  he  overtook 
her,  and  laid  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  as 
if  to  say:  Whither  art  thou  hastening  without 
looking  where  to  go? 

But   when    she   felt   him  touch   her,   she 

stopped  suddenly  and  turned,  and  looked  at 

him,  as  if  in  the  extremity  of  fear.     And  all  at 

128 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  129 

once,  she  began  to  laugh,  as  if  she  were  mad, 
with  round  eyes  that  were  filled  with  amaze- 
ment and  derision.  And  she  exclaimed:  Ha! 
Babhru,  is  it  thou?  But  I  left  thee  behind  me 
in  the  wood.  Ha!  thou  also  art  deserted,  and 
rejected,  and  despised.  Come,  then,  and  let 
us  escape  very  rapidly  together.  And  she 
seized  him  by  the  arm,  and  began  to  drag  him 
violently  along.  And  she  lowered  her  voice  to 
a  whisper,  and  began  to  speak,  so  quickly  that 
the  words  stumbled  over  one  another  as  they 
rushed  out  of  her  mouth.  And  she  said :  Poor 
Babhru,  thou  art  so  ugly  that  she  could  not 
love  thee  in  return,  quite  forgetting  that  she 
was  herself  so  ugly  that  nobody  could  love  her 
either.  But  he  was  so  beautiful,  so  beautiful, 
so  beautiful  that  she  ran  away  and  left  thee  in 
the  lurch:  never  even  dreaming  that  all  the 
other  women  were  as  silly  as  herself.  Ah! 
the  other  women,  they  were  so  many  and  so 
cruel.  There  were  no  other  women  in  the 
wood.  Was  it  lonely,  Babhru,  in  the  wood, 
after  she  went  away?  Poor  ugly  Babhru,  all 
alone  in  the  wood,  while  we  were  kissing  each 


130  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

other  in  the  city.  She  used  to  see  thee,  Babhru, 
as  she  kissed  him,  sitting  all  by  thyself  in  the 
wood,  and  weeping  by  thyself.  She  loved 
thee  just  a  very  little.  Didst  thou  remember? 
But  in  the  city,  she  feared,  she  feared,  to  see 
thee  suddenly  appear.  But  very  likely,  thou 
didst  not  know  where  she  had  gone.  Thou 
wouldst  have  killed  him,  Babhru.  Why  didst 
thou  not  run  after  her?  But  they  would 
not  have  admitted  thee,  poor  Babhru,  thou 
art  so  very  ugly :  and  thou  wouldst  only  have 
wandered,  going  round  and  round  the  palace, 
outside,  outside,  while  all  the  time  he  was 
kissing  thy  lotus  and  trampling  on  its  heart, 
inside.  And  yet  she  was  his  cousin,  and 
the  daughter  of  a  King.  Ha!  Babhru,  thou 
wert  ignorant,  and  didst  not  know.  But 
there  were  so  many  other  women,  all  alike. 
Couldst  thou  even  have  discovered  her 
among  them  all?  Her  eyes,  her  eyes  were 
different:  her  eyes  were  dreamy,  and  her 
kisses  like  snowflakes.  Surely  it  was  better, 
after  all,  in  the  wood:  there  were  no  other 
women  there.     Didst  thou  imagine,  Babhru, 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  131 

thou  wert  the  only  one  to  be  dishonoured  and 
befouled,  trodden  down  into  the  mud  and 
thrown  away?  But  the  very  pools  were  there 
to  teach  thee,  thou  art  so  ugly,  so  ugly:  and 
she  was  so  beautiful.  Couldst  thou  expect 
any  better  fate  than  hers?  How  could  she 
love  thee,  being  herself  so  unworthy  to  be 
loved?  And  he  was  like  the  very  God  of  Love, 
wandering  in  the  wood,  But  it  was  she  that 
lost  her  way.  He  knew  his  way  very  well  in- 
deed. How  could  she  expect  to  keep  him  all 
to  herself?  Is  not  the  whole  world  full  to  the 
very  brim  of  women  with  cruel  eyes?  O 
Babhru,  why  wert  thou  such  a  fool  as  to  think 
one  woman  any  better  than  another?  Fool 
that  she  was,  to  think  to  keep  him  all  to  her- 
self! O  Babhru,  thou  art  absolutely  nothing,  in 
comparison  with  him.  Thou  art  so  rude  and 
coarse  and  rough,  and  he  is  more  beautiful  than 
any  woman.  And  he  was  so  gentle  and  so 
kind,  and  his  kisses  were  so  sweet.  No,  it  was 
Babhru  who  was  kind,  and  he  was  like  a  snake. 
Listen,  and  let  me  tell  thee:  kisses  that  are 
sweet   are  the  bitterest  of  all:  when  other  lips 


132  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

come  in  between.  Thou  feelest  them,  the 
other  lips,  between  his  lips  and  thy  own.  And 
his  lips  were  a  flower  that  is  visited  by  a  thou- 
sand bees.  O  Babhru,  how  canst  thou  know 
anything  about  it,  since  thy  lips  have  never 
kissed  anyone  at  all?  Kiss  me,  poor  Babhru, 
and  thou  shalt  learn  by  experience  the  poison 
of  a  kiss,  from  lips  that  are  sticky  with  the 
honey  left  by  other  bees. 


IV 


And  as  Babhru  listened,  gazing  at  her  with 
alarm,  with  his  reason  swept  as  it  were  along  in 
a  flood  of  grief,  and  humiliation,  and  com- 
passion, and  sheer  amazement,  and  hardly 
understanding  the  words  flowing  from  her 
mouth  like  the  water  of  a  stream,  she  stopped 
short,  and  laid  her  hand  upon  his  own.  And 
he  started  at  its  touch,  for  it  burned  him  like  a 
flame,  as  if  she  was  on  fire.  And  she  said  with 
a  smile,  while  the  tears  were  running  down  her 
face:  Babhru,  dost  thou  know,  Aranyani  was 
a  creeper,  supported  by  a  noble  tree?  And 
yet  somehow  or  other,  the  tree  has  disap- 
peared. Who  knows?  for  doubtless  it  was 
all  eaten  away  within,  and  hollow,  and  as  I 
think,  the  ants  must  have  devoured  it,  leaving 
absolutely  nothing  but  emptiness,  and  earth, 

and   dust.     So  beautiful   it   seemed   outside, 

133 


134  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

surely  the  poor  creeper  could  not  tell  how 
base,  and  rotten,  and  horrible  it  was  within. 
So  when  I  saw  it  suddenly,  inside,  it  hurt  me 
here.  And  she  put  both  her  hands  upon  her 
heart,  and  began  to  sob.  And  then,  all  at 
once,  she  began  again  to  laugh.  And  she  said: 
Aye !  she  was  a  pearl,  and  a  swan,  and  I  know 
not  what  beside,  and  now  she  is  absolutely  no- 
thing, like  a  broken  pot.  And  the  golden  boat 
has  perished,  never  so  much  as  reaching  even 
the  shadow  of  the  sea.  Babhru,  it  was  a  lie: 
it  was  a  miserable  boat,  all  full  of  holes,  that 
sank  into  the  cold  black  water  like  a  stone. 
Base  and  rotten,  how  could  it  swim,  loaded 
with  such  an  innumerable  host  of  other 
women?  Base,  ah!  who  knows  better  than 
Aranyani  the  agony  of  finding  it  was  base. 
Was  Aranyani  base,  Babhru,  dost  thou  know? 
And  all  the  women  hated  each  other,  she 
and  all  the  others:  Babhru,  it  was  hell  in  the 
golden  boat.  And  she  was  worst  of  all,  she 
wept,  and  wept,  and  wept,  till  at  last  they 
turned  her  out,  and  Chamu  took  her  away. 
And  then  it  was,  I  think,  she  died.     It  hurt  her 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  135 

so  to  go  away,  she  must  have  died :  and  Chamu 
took  her  and  carried  her  away  when  she  was 
dead.  And  she  was  so  terrified  of  Chamu.  Ati- 
rupa,  Atirupa,  save,  0  save  me  from  Chamu's 
eyes.  Babhru,  beware  of  Chamu,  for  he  is 
the  very  worst  of  all:  worse  even  than  the 
women.  She  was  frightened  of  his  laughter: 
it  was  worse,  far  worse,  than  all  the  laughter  of 
the  women.  They  pushed  her  from  their  boat, 
and  Chamu  took  her.  And  she  begged  and 
begged  and  begged  him  only  to  leave  her  in  the 
sand ;  for  then  she  would  have  died,  and  never 
lived  to  see  her  father  and  Babhru  any  more. 
O  Babhru,  why  didst  thou  not  die  also,  before 
they  brought  her  back?  Chamu,  Chamu,  did 
Atirupa  give  you  Aranyani,  to  kiss  her  dead 
body  on  the  sand? 

And  all  at  once,  Babhru  began  to  tremble 
like  a  leaf.  And  he  exclaimed:  Aranyani, 
Aranyani!  And  suddenly  she  fell  down  and 
began  to  kiss  his  feet.  And  then,  he  shud- 
dered, and  began  to  sob,  as  if  a  sword  had  run 
into  his  heart:  and  the  sweat  broke  out  upon 
his  brow.     And  he  stooped  down,  and  lifted 


136  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

her  violently  up,  saying  in  a  low  voice  that 
shook  like  himself:  Aranyani,  thy  reason  has 
deserted  thee.  Come  now,  and  I  will  take 
thee  home. 

And  she  said  with  a  shriek :  Nay,  nay,  for  the 
ghost  of  my  father  is  waiting  there,  to  drive  me 
away.  Come  away  into  the  wood  where  it 
is  dark.  And  she  dragged  him  by  the  hand, 
and  she  whispered :  Babhru,  I  have  a  thing  to 
ask  of  thee.  Wilt  thou  kill  me  with  thy  knife 
in  the  darkness?  for  otherwise  I  must  abandon 
the  body  of  my  own  accord. 

And  Babhru  started,  and  he  exclaimed,  with 
horror:  Aranyani,  art  thou  mad?  What! 
should  I  kill  thee,  I,  kill  thee,  who  art  my  very 
soul? 


And  she  gazed  at  him  awhile  in  silence,  and 
then,  there  came  into  her  eyes  an  anguish  that 
was  mixed  with  disappointment  and  despair. 
And  she  turned  away,  and  murmured,  as  if 
speaking  to  herself,  with  melancholy:  He 
also  is  my  enemy.  They  will  not  even  kill  her. 
They  keep  her  living,  when  she  only  asks  for 
death,  not  even  letting  her  escape,  shutting 
her  like  a  prisoner  in  the  dungeon  of  her  lonely 
soul.  Even  Chamu  would  not  kill  her:  though 
she  prayed  him.  He  only  laughed.  And 
yet  she  was  already  dead,  slain  long  ago, 
and  done  away,  leaving  nothing  but  a  corpse. 

And  she  stood  for  a  moment,  as  if  reflecting, 
and  all  at  once  she  turned,  and  looked  at 
Babhru,  with  a  face  that  was  wan  in  the  moon- 
light, and  eyes  that  were  filled  with  anxiety, 

and  misery  and  pain.     And  suddenly,   they 

137 


138  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

changed,  becoming  filled  with  laughter  and 
hatred  and  derision.  And  she  came  up  close 
to  him,  as  if  to  whisper  in  his  ear,  and  sud- 
denly she  struck  him  in  the  face,  with  a  shout 
of  laughter.  And  she  said,  contemptuously: 
Thou  wilt  not  kill  me?  Poor  Babhru,  thou 
hast  not  even  yet  begun  to  understand.  Dost 
thou  remember  Aranyani,  that  told  thee 
stories,  long,  long  ago,  in  the  wood?  She  is 
dead.  Far  away  in  the  desert  they  took  her 
heart,  and  tore  it  and  trod  it  into  pieces,  and 
flung  her  body  out,  to  wander  in  the  world 
alone,  dressed  in  the  clothes  of  misery  and 
shame.  And  this  it  is,  thou  wilt  not  kill.  Thou 
wouldst  actually  keep  her  miserable  body  still 
alive,  to  live  with  in  the  torture  of  this  wood, 
where  Aranyani  lived  long  ago,  to  suffer  every 
instant  the  horror  of  recollection,  and  to  be 
mocked  for  ever  by  the  memory  of  a  happiness 
that  is  changed  into  despair.  Like  monkeys 
that  go  by  among  the  trees,  they  found  a  fruit, 
and  bit  it,  only  to  go  on  and  leave  it  lying, 
deserted  and  outraged  and  dishonoured  on  the 
ground.     Thou  thinkest  to  find  happiness  in 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  139 

watching  her  dead  body?  Thou  wilt  not  kill 
her,  poor  Babhru?  Dost  thou  know  what  she 
will  think  of,  living  beside  thee  in  the  wood? 
Dost  thou  think  it  will  be  thou?  Alas,  poor 
ugly  Babhru,  it  will  be  he.  And  every  time 
she  sees  thee,  she  will  compare  thee  and  him, 
thy  body  with  his  body,  thy  eyes  with  his  eyes. 
Her  lips  would  never  touch  thee  without 
thinking  of  his  own.  Thou  wilt  only  love 
what  he  rejected,  and  bite  at  the  very  place 
which  the  monkeys  bit  before  thee  when  they 
threw  the  fruit  away.  The  taste  would  be  so 
bitter  that  thy  love  would  turn  to  hatred  in  a 
day.  She  would  loathe  the  very  sight  of  thee, 
and  every  time  she  looked  at  thee,  her  eyes 
would  tell  thee  thou  wert  so  ugly  and  con- 
temptible in  comparison  with  him.  They 
have  flung  tliee  the  relic  of  a  life  that  they 
would  not  take  away,  merely  in  derision.  Wilt 
thou  live  even  with  a  victim  that  despises 
thee?  Half  dead  and  half  alive,  like  a  lizard 
mangled  by  a  passing  crow,  and  left  to  writhe: 
a  deer,  struck  by  an  idle  hunter,  left  wounded 
in  the  jungle,  unable  even  to  procure  its  death, 


140  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

to  ebb  away  its  life  through  burning  days  and 
black  intolerable  nights,  eyed  by  the  vultures 
sitting  by.  And  thou  wouldst  be  the  vulture? 
Thou  wilt  only  be  a  jackal,  eating  what  the 
lion  leaves.  What!  live  beside  her,  knowing 
that  another  is  buried  in  her  heart?  Wilt 
thou  feed,  like  a  dog,  even  on  the  bodies 
of  the  dead?  Poor  Babhru,  dost  thou  not 
understand?  She  cast  thee  off  and  left  thee 
for  a  lover  that  she  never  will  forget,  and 
living  like  a  vampire  in  her  body  that  is  dead, 
he  will  utterly  despise  thee,  laughing  at  thee 
in  her  eyes.  Ah!  Wilt  thou  actually  wait  to 
understand,  till  a  little  Atirupa  comes,  to  spit, 
exactly  like  his  father,  in  thy  face? 


VI 


And  as  Babhru  listened,   all  at  once  the 

words  of  Chamu  as  he  went  away  rose  up  and 

stood  before  him,  as  if  they  had  lain  waiting, 

and  as  it  were  sleeping  in  his  soul,  till  roused  into 

recollection  by  her  own.     And  suddenly,  the 

veil,  formed  by  his  own  devotion  to  Aranyani 

and  his  own  self-annihilation,  that  hid  from 

him  the  truth,  was  lifted  from  his  eyes.     And 

he    saw    himself   suddenly    as  in    a   mirror, 

mocked,  and  scorned,  and  as  it  were  a  very 

target  for  the  contempt  and  derision  of  Chamu, 

and  his  master,  and  even  of  herself.     And  his 

heart  swelled  suddenly  with  such  a  flood  of 

shame,  and  anger,  and  the  bitterness  of  his 

own   inferiority,  that  it  almost  broke  in  two. 

And  his  face  fell :  and  his  eyes,  that  were  fixed 

on  Aranyani,  grew  darker  and  ever  darker, 

as  if  night  at  a  single  stride    had    suddenly 

141 


142  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

extinguished  in  his  heart  the  hope  that  had 
dawned  in  it  at  her  return. 

So  he  stood  a  long  while,  sinking,  as  he 
looked  at  her,  deeper  and  deeper  into  the 
blackness  of  despair,  and  resembling  one  that 
waits  in  darkness  for  a  light  that  still  flickers  to 
go  out  and  disappear.  And  suddenly  he  said 
to  himself:  She  is  right.  For  fate  in  the  form  of 
Atirupa  has  destroyed  her  and  her  happiness, 
and  mine.  And  he  looked  fixedly  at  Aranyani, 
who  was  standing  watching  him,  and  wait- 
ing, as  it  were,  for  his  decision:  and  he  said: 
Aranyani,  I  was  wrong,  and  thou  art  right. 
And  now  there  is  no  remedy  but  one,  and  it  is 
better  to  be  dead.  And  as  he  spoke,  he  took 
his  knife,  and  drew  it  from  its  sheath,  and 
waited,  clutching  it  in  his  hand. 

And  instantly,  Aranyani  uttered  a  cry  of 
joy.  And  she  came  quickly  and  stood  close  to 
him,  and  she  took  hold  with  both  hands  of  the 
choli  that  covered  her,  and  tore  it  violently 
asunder,  dragging  it  down,  till  her  breast  was 
absolutely  bare.  And  she  said:  See!  I  am 
ready.     And  so  she  remained,  waiting,  with 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  143 

her  bosom  turned  up  towards  him  in  the  moon- 
light, bared,  and  as  it  were  eager,  for  the 
coming  blow. 

And  he  stood  still  for  yet  a  moment,  looking 
down  upon  her  with  melancholy  eyes,  in  which, 
strange!  there  was  not  a  vestige  even  of  the 
shadow  of  any  anger.  And  he  said  to  himself: 
There,  in  the  very  middle,  between  those  two 
round  marble  breasts,  the  knife  shall  fall. 
And  as  he  hesitated,  a  tear  rose  up  into  his 
eyes,  as  if  to  bid  farewell  to  his  own  happiness. 
And  he  murmured  to  himself:  They  were  for 
him  and  not  for  thee.  And  he  passed  his  left 
hand  over  his  eyes,  as  if  to  clear  his  sight,  and 
suddenly  he  raised  his  knife,  and  buried  it  in 
her  heart. 


VII 


So,  then,  with  a  sigh  that  was  half  a  cry,  she 

swayed  and  fell.     And  he  never  tried  to  catch 

her,  but  stood  a  long  while  silent,  exactly  where 

he  was,  looking  down  upon  her  lying  still. 

And  then,  he  sat  down  upon  the  ground  beside 

her,  and  lifted  her  very  gently,  and  set  her  on 

his  lap,  propping  her  head  upon  his  shoulder: 

and  he  began  to  whisper  in  her  ear,  patting  her 

as  he  did  so,  and  rocking  her  to  and  fro,  like 

one  that  soothes    a   child.      And   he  said: 

Now,   then,    thy  trouble   is    all  over,   and  I 

have  given  thee  rest,  for  it  was  better  to  be 

dead.     And  thou  wilt  never  know  what  it  cost 

me  to  give  thee  the  blow.      But  now  thou 

canst  go  to  sleep,  for  thou  art  very  weary: 

forgetting  all,  and  not  fearing  any  recollection 

in  the  morning:  since  thy  sleep  will  be  a  long 

one,  and  thou  wilt  never  wake  again.     And 

144 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  145 

all  the  evil  dreams  have  vanished  with  their 
author,  never  to  return;  and  now  once  more 
Aranyani  is  herself,  only  differing  in  this,  that 
she  is  dead.  Aye!  it  was  better  to  be  dead: 
and  my  blow  has  blotted  out  all  the  bitterness 
and  shame.  And  thou  didst  await  it  so 
bravely:  and  yet,  hadst  thou  known,  it  was  not 
thy  death  only,  but  mine,  for  which  thou  wert 
asking,  thou  wouldst  have  shrunk,  it  may  be, 
from  the  blow,  which,  as  it  was,  thou  wert  only 
too  joyful  to  receive.  And  now  very  soon,  I 
shall  follow  thee,  by  a  second  blow,  far  easier  to 
give;  for  to  give  thee  thine  was  very  hard;  so 
hard,  that  it  hurt  my  heart  a  hundred  times  as 
much  as  thine.  But  in  the  meanwhile,  we  will 
sit  together  in  the  moonlight,  just  for  a  very 
little  while,  and  talk,  as  of  old.  Only  thou 
canst  not  tell  me  stories,  and  call  me  Bruin, 
any  more.  Thou  didst  give  thyself,  alive,  to 
others:  but  thou  art  mine,  now  that  thou  art 
dead:  and  that  is  enough.  And  this  is,  as  it 
were,  my  marriage  night.  And  think  not  that 
I  bear  thee  any  grudge,  for  the  words  spoken  at 
random  in  thy  madness,  or  even  for  the  blow; 
10 


146  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

for  that  is  nothing,  from  such  a  little  hand  as 
thine.    Come,  let  me  see  it,  for  maybe  it  hurt 
itself  more  than  it  hurt  me.     Ha!  dost  thou 
remember  the  very  story  that  thou  didst  tell 
me  thyself,  about  the  sage?     And  now,  who 
knows  better  than  myself,  that  a  blow  hurts 
the  giver  more  than  the  receiver?     For  no  one 
ever  hurt  himself  so  much  as  I  did  when  I 
gave  thee  thy  blow.     It  was  not  to  return 
blow  for  blow  that  I  gave  it.     Ah!  it  is  not 
thou  against  whom  I  bear  a  grudge,  for  all 
thy  words  and  thy  little  irritable  blow;  but  it 
is  thy  vile  lover  and  his  viler  instrument,  who 
have  ruined  thee,  and  brought  about  thy  death. 
And  then,  all  at  once,  he  uttered  an  ex- 
clamation.    And  he  stopped  short,  and  set  her 
down  upon  the  ground,  and  stood  up.     For 
suddenly,  as  if  for  the  very  first  time,  the 
injury  done  to  her  by  Atirupa  and  his  follower 
rose  up,   and  took  him  as  it   were  by  the 
throat. 

And  as  he  stood  thinking,  all  at  once  he  be- 
gan to  tremble  unawares,  with  rage.  And  he 
exclaimed:  Aha!  Atirupa,  I  have  remembered, 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  147 

and  only  just  in  time:  I  am  not  dead  yet. 
And  he  looked  down  at  Aranyani,  as  she  lay. 
And  he  said:  Aranyani,  forgive  me!  Well 
didst  thou  call  me  fool.  For  I  came  within  an 
ace  of  following  thee  into  the  other  world, 
leaving  thee  unavenged.  But  now  I  see  that 
before  I  go  there  is  other  work  to  do  on  thy 
behalf.  And  now,  then,  I  will  guarantee  that 
it  shall  be  done,  very  soon,  and  very  well. 
Then,  not  sooner,  will  I  die,  when  I  have  shown 
the  murderers  of  Aranyani  that  she  has  left 
behind  her  arms  a  little  longer,  and  hands  a 
little  harder,  than  her  own.  Aha!  Atirupa, 
wait  for  a  little  while!  And  then  shalt  thou 
discover  that  the  ghost  of  Aranyani  has 
abandoned  her  body,  only  to  enter  mine:  just 
on  purpose  to  caress  thee,  for  the  very  last 
time. 

And  he  stooped  down,  and  laid  his  great 
arm  beside  hers,  as  if  to  compare  them,  and  he 
laughed.  And  then,  very  gently,  he  lifted  her 
in  those  strong  arms,  and  began  to  carry  her 
away,  rejoicing  in  his  burden,  like  one  that 
carries  in  his  arms  his  newly-wedded  wife.     So 


148  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

he  went  on  in  the  moonlit  wood,  till  he  came  at 
last  to  her  home.  And  there  he  carried  her  in, 
and  laid  her  down  very  gently  on  a  bed  of 
leaves.  And  then,  with  hesitation,  he  kissed 
her  softly  on  the  brow,  whispering  as  he  did  so: 
Thou  didst  bid  me  kiss  thee,  in  thy  madness, 
and  now,  it  cannot  hurt  thee :  though  I  would 
have  gladly  given  many  lives  to  kiss  thee,  for 
the  first  time  and  the  last,  before.  But  thy 
kisses  were  for  others. 

And  all  at  once,  he  began  to  sob,  as  if  some- 
thing in  his  soul,  that  had  till  then  supported 
it,  had  suddenly  given  way.  And  he  began  to 
wail,  wringing  his  hands,  and  tearing  his  hair, 
and  crying,  Aranyani,  Aranyani:  throwing 
himself  to  and  fro,  and  striding  wildly  up  and 
down,  as  if  his  heart,  appalled  by  the  blank 
horror  of  its  own  loneliness,  were  struggling  to 
escape.  And  then,  after  a  while,  as  if  ex- 
hausted, and  as  it  were  overcome  by  the  sense 
of  the  futility  of  his  lamentation,  he  ceased,  as 
suddenly  as  he  began,  and  remained  for  a  long 
time  standing  absolutely  still,  looking  out 
through  the  open  door  into  the  wood,  that  lay 


Rubbles  of  the  Foam  149 

silent,  as  if  on  purpose  to  sympathise  with  the 
other  dead  silence  there  within. 

And  at  last  he  turned.  And  he  looked  for 
a  moment  at  Aranyani,  and  he  stooped,  and 
took  the  knife,  which  all  the  while  remained 
buried  in  her  breast,  and  drew  it  suddenly 
away,  and  turned,  and  went  out,  and  fastened 
very  carefully  the  door. 

And  he  stood  awhile  in  the  moonlight,  look- 
ing at  his  knife.  And  then  he  put  it,  just  as  it 
was,  back  into  the  sheath,  saying  to  himself: 
Her  heart's  red  blood  shall  dry  upon  the  blade, 
till  I  mix  it  with  his  own. 


VIII 

But  in  the  meanwhile  Atirupa,  away  in  his 
capital  in  the  desert,  continued  as  before, 
having  utterly  forgotten  Aranyani,  and  never 
thinking  of  her  even  in  a  dream;  busy,  like  a 
mad  bee,  only  in  making  onslaughts  on  other 
flowers,  and  leaving  behind  him  those  al- 
ready rifled  of  their  honey,  neglected  and 
buried  in  oblivion,  like  the  faded  leaves  of  a 
dead  red  lotus  lying  at  the  very  bottom  of  a 
forest  pool. 

And  then,  by  the  decree  of  destiny,  there 
came  at  last  a  day  when  he  sat  with  some  of 
his  retainers,  according  to  his  custom,  drinking 
wine  and  passing  time  easily  in  his  palace  hall. 
And  there  came  in,  all  at  once,  a  keeper  of  the 
gate.     And    she1    said:    Maharaj,    there   has 

1  They  appear  to  have  been  women,  very  often,  in  mediaeval 
or  ancient  India. 

150 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  151 

come  to  the  door  an  old  sannydsi,  demanding 
admission  to  thy  presence,  and  refusing  to  go 
away.  And  it  may  be,  he  is  mad.  ■  For  he 
says  he  is  a  deity,  who  wishes  to  renew  his  old 
acquaintance  with  another.  And  now,  the 
Maharaja  is  the  judge. 

And  Atirupa  laughed,  and  he  said:  If  he  is  a 
deity  indeed,  why  is  he  waiting  at  a  gate? 
And  yet,  who  knows?  For  the  deity  presents 
himself  in  many  forms,  and  who  knows  how 
or  when?  But  go  thou  and  tell  the  holy  man 
to  give  thee  some  evidence,  or  token,  of  his 
divinity,  and  then  we  shall  see. 

So,  then,  after  a  while,  that  pratihdri  came 
again.  And  she  said:  Maharaj,  thus  said  the 
sannydsi:  Go  and  tell  the  Maharaja  that  I  am 
the  God  of  Death,  yet  not  just  of  any  death, 
but  only  of  his  own.  For  long  ago,  I  burned 
his  body,  with  fire  from  my  eye;  and  now 
I  am  curious  to  see  whether  the  new  body  he  has 
got  is,  as  I  have  heard,  still  better  than  the  old.3 

1  And  yet,  not  so  much  in  India  as  in  Europe  Bvefl  now,  in- 
carnations of  deity  mi^ht  lx-  found  all  over  India. 

'The  point  of  tin-  flattery  lies,  of  OOune,  in  the  insinuation 
that  Atirupa  was  the  God  of  L<>vc. 


152  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

And  hearing  this,  Atirupa  was  delighted, 
and  he  exclaimed :  The  evidence  is  p^od ,-  and 
I  recognise  the  deity  of  this  well-mannered 
Byragi:  for,  as  it  seems,  he  is  a  connoisseur. 
So  bring  him  in  to  see  me.  And  he  said  to  him  - 
self:  It  may  be  he  is  an  emissary  from  one 
of  the  neighbouring  Kings, 1  covering  his  policy 
with  folly:  or  he  may  be  the  go-between  of 
some  assignation:  or  even  if  he  be  nothing  of 
the  kind,  what  harm? 

So  then,  after  a  little  while,  that  sannydsi 
entered,  looking  like  a  very  shdla  tree  in  height. 
And  he  was  smeared  all  over  with  ashes,  from 
his  head  to  his  feet,  with  absolutely  no- 
thing on,  but  a  yellow  rag  around  his  waist, 
and  a  rosary  of  aksha  beads  around  his  neck, 
which  resembled  that  of  a  bull.  And  his  face 
was  almost  hidden  in  the  masses  of  his  grey 
and  very  dirty  hair  and  beard,  which  were  mat- 
ted, and  tied  in  large  knots,  above  and  below. 
And  his  eyes,  which  were  extraordinarily 
bright,  rested  on  Atirupa,  as  he  entered,  with 

1  All  these  sannydsis,  byrdgis,  gosdwis,  were  as  a  rule  wandering 
scoundrels  who  had,  and  have,  much  to  do  with  politics. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  153 

an  expression  which,  like  that  of  a  wild  animal, 
was  half  timidity  and  half  ferocity,  mixed  with 
keen  examination:  and  he  trembled  a  very 
little,  as  he  stood,  as  if  with  fear.  And  Ati- 
rupa  gazed  at  him  with  curiosity  and  wonder, 
and  he  exclaimed,  as  if  in  jest:  O  Maheshwara, 
there  cannot  be  a  doubt  of  thy  divinity:  for 
surely,  if  thou  wert  not  Maheshwara  himself, 
he  might  be  jealous  of  thee,  for  thy  height  and 
thy  ashes  and  thy  hair,  and  that  third  eye 
painted  in  the  very  middle  of  thy  brow, 
looking  as  if  it  were  just  about  to  open  and 
consume  me  again. 

Then  that  strange  old  sannydsi  laughed  like 
a  hyaena,  and  he  said:  Maharaj,  be  not  afraid 
any  longer  of  my  eye:  for  this  time  I  shall 
consume  thee  with  flame  of  quite  another 
kind,  in  the  form  of  a  kiss  that  I  have 
brought  thee,  from  a  beauty  almost  equal  to 
thy  own,  with  eyes  that  resemble  the  gazelle, 
and  lips  that  are  redder  than  her  own  heart's 

blood. 

Then  said  Atirupa:  Sannydsi,  1  know  that 
a  message  carried  by  thro  would  be  of  8  value 


154  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

proportioned  to  its  bearer ;  and  tell  me  quickly 
what  it  is,  for  I  am  curious  to  learn. 

And  the  sannydsi  looked  at  him  significantly, 
as  it  were  with  a  wink  of  the  eyes.  And  he 
said :  0  deity  of  Love,  who  knows  better  than 
thyself  that  a  high-caste  lady,  when  she  goes  to 
an  assignation,  wraps  herself  up,  and  fastens 
her  bangles  and  her  anklets,  to  prevent  them 
even  from  jingling?  And  there  are  words,  and 
names,  unfit  to  be  heard  by  any  other  ears 
than  thine.  Were  I  to  speak,  among  all  these 
ears,  thou  wouldst  be  the  very  first  to  punish 
me  for  my  indiscretion. 

Then  Atirupa  was  filled  with  curiosity,  and 
he  said  to  himself:  It  is  as  I  thought,  and  he  is 
an  emissary,  and  one,  moreover,  well  suited  to 
his  task.  And  he  turned,  and  exclaimed: 
Chamu,  take  everyone  away.  And  then,  the 
sannydsi  looked  attentively  at  Chamu,  as  they 
went.  And  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  to  Atirupa : 
Maharaj,  for  I  have  heard  of  Chamu,  that 
he  is  thy  widushaka, J  let  him  be  at  hand :  for 
with  thy  permission,  he  and  I  will  settle  all  the 

1  As  we  should  say:     Pere  Joseph,  or  dme-damnee. 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  155 

details  of  this  negotiation,  as  soon  as  it  has 
received  thy  own  approval. 

And  Atirupa  said:  Chamu,  be  ready  when  I 
call.  And  when  they  were  all  gone,  he  ex- 
claimed with  impatience:  Now  then,  O 
sannydsi,  to  thy  business,  without  any  more 
delay.  Who  is  thy  employer?  And  the 
sannydsi  said:  Aranyani:  and  if  thou  hast 
forgotten  her,  she  has  not  forgotten  thee.  But 
having  abandoned  her  own  body,  she  has  en- 
tered mine,  to  give  thee,  as  I  said,  the  kiss  of 
death. 

And  then,  as  Atirupa  stared  at  him  with 
amazement,  that  sannydsi  leaped  upon  him 
with  a  yell,  and  seized  him,  and  threw  him 
suddenly  on  his  back.  And  he  knelt  on  his 
throat,  like  a  very  mountain,  and  taking  from 
his  waist  a  knife,  he  plunged  it,  with  blows 
like  those  of  a  carpenter  that  hammers  in  a 
nail,  over  and  over  again  into  his  heart. 

And  then,  as  the  retainers  came  running  in, 
summoned  as  though  on  purp<>s<-  by  his  own 
yell,  with  Chamu  at  their  head,  he  started  to 
his  feet.     And  as  they  looked  towards  him,  1<>! 


156  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

that  sannydsi  began  to  laugh.  And  he  put  up 
suddenly  his  hands,  and  seized,  with  one,  his 
hair,  and  with  the  other,  his  beard,  and  tore 
them  from  his  head. 

,  And  as  Chamu  stopped  short,  gazing  at  him 
with  stupor  and  recognition,  he  stood  for  a 
single  instant  absolutely  still,  as  if  to  let  him 
see.  And  then,  he  leaned  suddenly  towards 
him,  and  he  lifted  his  finger  and  he  whis- 
pered very  low :  Hark !  Dost  thou  not  hear 
Aranyani  calling,  out  of  the  other  world?  So 
now,  then,  we  will  go  together,  to  seek  her, 
along  the  great  road.  And  he  threw  himself 
suddenly  on  Chamu,  and  took  him  by  the 
throat,  with  huge  hands  whose  fingers  re- 
sembled the  roots  of  a  wata  tree. 

And  as  he  felt  the  throat  of  that  ill-doer  in 
his  hands,  there  came  over  him  like  a  flood 
madness,  that  resembled  the  intoxication  com- 
pounded of  delight,  and  fury,  and  despair,  as 
if  his  life-long  devotion  to  Aranyani,  and  his 
wrath  at  her  ruin  and  his  own,  had  waited  till 
that  very  moment  to  mingle  with  the  rapture 
of   revenge,    and    filling    his    soul    with    the 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  157 

ecstasy  of  the  strength  of  a  giant,  had  then 
become  concentrated  to  pass  into  his  hands. 
And  as  he  squeezed,  he  muttered,  not  knowing 
what  he  said:  Laugh,  weasel,  laugh  now  at 
Aranyani.  And  in  the  meantime  all  the 
others,  to  whom  he  paid  no  more  attention 
than  as  if  they  were  not  there,  seeing  abso- 
lutely nothing  before  him  but  the  eyes  of 
Chamu  that  were  starting  from  his  head,  fell 
upon  him  all  together  in  a  body,  like  a  swarm 
of  bees,  and  stung  him,  as  it  were,  to  death, 
exactly  as  they  chose,  cutting  him  to  pieces 
with  swords  and  knives.  But  for  all  that 
they  did,  they  could  not  loose  his  hands, 
wh;ch  remained  just  as  they  were,  locked  like 
an  iron  ring  around  the  throat  to  which  they 
clung,  as  if  his  will  still  animated  them,  even 
after  he  was  dead. 

So  it  came  about,  just  as  he  predicted ;  and 
those  two  very  bitter  enemies  went  together, 
and  as  it  were,  hand-in-hand,  into  the  other 
world.  And  Chamu,  with  his  master  At  irupa, 
went  into  other  bodies.  But  the  soul  of 
Babhru  entered,  for  his  crime,  into  that  body 


158  Bubbles  of  the  Foam 

of  a  camel  lying  yonder,  which  perished,  as  I 
told  thee  to  begin  with,  in  the  desert  long  ago. 


And  then,  the  Moony-crested  stopped. 
And  after  a  while,  the  Daughter  of  the  Snow 
said  softly:  Alas!  for  these  unhappy  mor- 
tal women,  who  suffer  at  the  hands  of  evil- 
minded  lovers  such  intolerable  wrong  and 
woe.  And  yet,  as  I  think,  poor  Babhru  de- 
served rather  to  be  forgiven  altogether,  or 
even  to  be  actually  rewarded,  rather  than 
punished  by  the  body  of  a  camel  for  treat- 
ing those  two  ill-doers  even  better  than  they 
merited,  for  such  outrageous  crime. 

Then  said  Maheshwara,  looking  at  her  with 
affection:  O  Daughter  of  the  Snow,  thou  re- 
semblest  every  other  woman,  judging  by  thy 
own  pity  and  compassion,  and  the  emotion 
aroused  in  thy  soul  by  the  particular  mis- 
fortune of  a  solitary  case,  not  taking  into  any 
consideration  the  constitution  of  the  world. 
And  this  is  a  merit  and  a  beauty  in  thee,  and 
yet  it  is  altogether  wrong.  For  Babhru  suf- 
fered as  a  consequence  of  acts  committed  in 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam  159 

a  former  birth,  the  circumstances  of  which 
thou  dost  not  know.  And  moreover,  even  so, 
he  was  culpable  and  presumptuous,  in  taking 
on  himself  a  vengeance  to  which  even  Aranyani 
did  not  urge  him,  not  knowing  that  punish- 
ment far  more  terrible  than  his  was  waiting 
for  those  criminals,  without  his  interference. 
And  he  should  have  left  Aranyani 's  vindi- 
cation to  the  deity,  who  knew  what  was 
necessary  far  better  than  himself,  and  had  his 
eye  upon  it  all.  For  there  is  no  retribution  so 
just,  or  so  sure,  or  so  adequate,  or  awful,  as 
that  which  evil-doers  lay  upon  themselves, 
in  the  form  of  their  own  Ul-deeds,  which 
dog  them  like  a  shadow  clinging  to  their  heels, 
from  body  to  body  through  birth,  afterbirth, 
till  the  very  last  atom  of  guilt  has  passed 
through  the  furnace  of  expiation,  and  the  very 
last  item  of  their  debt  to  everlasting  Yama  has 
been  weighed  in  his  scales,  and  struck  from  the 
account,  and  utterly  redeemed. 


And  then,  that  Lord  of  the  Moony  Tire  took 
his  darling  in  his  arms,  and  set  her  on  his  lap: 


i6o 


Bubbles  of  the  Foam 


and  they  rose  up  and  floated  away  together 
like  a  cloud  to  their  home  on  the  snowy  peak. 
But  the  bones  of  that  camel  remained  alone, 
lying  still  in  the  sand,  till  the  moon  got  up 
and  gazed  at  them  with  wonder,  looking 
down  from  the  sky,  as  if  mistaking  them  for  a 
reflection  of  himself,  looking  back  at  him  with 
white  and  silent  laughter  from  the  blackness  of 
the  earth,  and  saying  as  it  were:  By  the  help  of 
thy  beams,  I  am  whiter  than  thyself.  And  the 
night-wind  rushed  over  them,  scattering  over 
them  oblivion,  in  the  form  of  a  cloud  of  its  play- 
thing, the  ocean  of  the  sand,  and  danced 
round  and  fled  away  with  a  wail  into  the 
desert,  with  a  music  that  resembled  the 
moan  of  the  world  for  the  victims  of  the  waste. 


Ji  Selection  from  the 
Catalogue  of 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S   SONS 


Conplete   Catalogues   cant 
on  application 


Mainspring 

By 

V.  H.  Friedlaender 


For  once  in  a  modern  novel  the  theme 
is  not "  the  progress  of  some  male  or  female 
person  towards  matrimony,"  hut  of  the 
growth  of  a  soul,  of  self-realization  through 
suffering.  Each  life  has  its  mainspring, 
its  essential  force,  which  may  require 
sacrifice;  the  story  of  Bridget  Gale  is  the 
story  of  a  genius  for  painting  which  con- 
quered disappointment  and  sorrow  and 
finally  love  itself. 

"Mainspring"  is  the  first  novel  of  Miss 
Friedlaender,  who  is  already  well-known 
in  this  country  for  her  short  stories.  She 
writes  with  earnestness  and  charm  and 
with  extraordinary  fidelity  to  life  and 
literature. 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


The  Shining  Road 

By 
Bernice  Brown 


This  is  the  tale  of  a  young  boy  who 
was  "placed  out'  on  an  Iowa  farm. 
Iowa  may  seem  a  prosaic  background, 
but  adventure  is  a  thing  of  the  spirit. 
Through  all  this  boy's  youthful  struggles, 
through  his  difficult  progress  to  self- 
understanding  runs  the  most  vivid  drama 
of  all,  the  drama  that  is  common  to  every 
life.  His  story  is  one  in  which  each  one 
of  us  can  identify  himself,  and  at  the 
end  we  can  stand  with  Stephen  Douglas 
on  the  shining  road  to  life. 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 


New  York 


London 


■■■«^?»RLGl0NAL  UBRARy  FACILITY 


AA      000  277  650 


